Red Riding Hood and the Wolf
by Slayergirl
Summary: A Southern Vampire Fairytale. When Bill is called away to New Orleans on business, Sookie is left with no option but to accept a lift to Fangtasia from its owner, in order to read the minds of some of his staff and discover who has been stealing from him. Things turn out rather differently to how she expects - and she discovers that all is not as it seems. Eric/Sookie.
1. Blood

**A/N: Dedicated to** **rsmmschi** **for kicking me up the backside to finish and post some of my fics! Hopefully there'll be more Southern Vampire Fairytales - but until I write them, here, for your delectation, is Red Riding Hood and the Wolf, chapter 1.**

* * *

 **Blood**

I wasn't happy that I'd been more or less ordered to go to Fangtasia by Eric the Hunk (via Bill), as I'd hoped never to have to see the Viking vampire again, after that first time at his club; he'd terrified me completely. I was even less happy to get up the morning before I was due to go, to find a note from Bill popped in the mail box telling me he'd been called away 'on business' for a week (whatever that meant), wouldn't be able to go with me, and that Eric would be arranging transport.

I didn't like the sound of that _at all_ – either part of it. What business was so urgent that he had to be away this very evening? Why couldn't I simply drive myself over there?

I fretted unhappily for most of the day, wondering who would be picking me up. I hoped it wouldn't be the bartender, who had creeped me out. Maybe it would be the woman, Pam? Perhaps a better bet, but still scary as hell; I remembered her kicking a fang-banger in the shoulder, and gave a little shudder.

It wasn't either of them who picked me up, in the end, though. Oh, no. At about eleven thirty, a car pulled into my driveway, and there was a knock at my door. I calmed my nerves as best I could, and opened the door, to see Eric himself standing in my doorway.

I'd forgotten how massive he was, standing at nearly six and a half feet tall, and shoulders almost as broad as the doorway. "You are ready?" he enquired, just as I was debating whether or not I had to invite him in, for the sake of politeness (Gran would have said so), despite my sense of self-preservation squeaking in alarm that I really didn't want to.

I nodded. "I'll just lock up." My hands were shaking so much that I dropped the keys; he caught them before they hit the ground, and held them out to me, the key ring over his finger, his eyebrow raised, and a slight smile on his face. I took them from him wordlessly, and locked the door.

"You live here on your own, all the way out here?" he asked as he opened the passenger door of his car – a red Corvette convertible whose vanity plate read 'BLDSKR'. "It must get lonely, especially at night, with nobody nearby." He shut the car door once I was seated, but as the top was down, he could still look down at me.

"Why, grandma, what big teeth you have," I said dryly, not wanting him to see I was unsettled by his comment.

To my surprise, he burst out laughing. Unlike the bartender, who'd looked even scarier when he smiled, Eric's face seemed to relax, his eyes sparkling with mirth. Tiny arcs appeared at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes crinkled with amusement; it was a face made for laughter, I thought vaguely. He cast himself into the driver's seat. "I'm not the Big Bad Wolf you seem to think I am, Little Red Riding Hood," he grinned. "Buckle up; I have a deep-seated belief that speed restrictions are for other people."

I was glad he'd warned me of that, I thought, as he threw that car around twists and turns with zest and élan. Surprisingly, though, he handled it with a great deal of skill; never once did I believe he would lose control of the car, and eventually loosened my death grip on the seat.

"So, ah, what do you need my telepathy for?" I asked nervously.

"My accountant alerted me that sixty thousand dollars has gone missing from the bar. I want to find out who the culprit is – who has been stealing from me."

Someone who seriously had a death wish, I thought to myself. Out loud, I said, "So how do I fit into that? Who am I going to be using my telepathy on?"

"The accountant himself, first of all, to make sure he really did discover the theft, rather than perpetrating it," he said, his eyes never leaving the road. "Then the waitresses."

"And they're all human, right?" I asked anxiously. "I can't read vampires."

"Not at all?" he asked. He seemed surprised, curious. "How do our minds seem to you, then?"

"Just… voids. Blank spaces, where the thoughts would be. I can tell there's a vampire there, because of the silence, but I can't pick out any thoughts or feelings, it's just… silence."

"In a world where you are constantly bombarded by the thoughts and feelings of others, that must be very restful," he commented thoughtfully.

"It is," I said, surprised by how quickly he'd understood my predicament. "But these people – they're human?" I persisted.

"Yes, all human," he replied.

"And what will happen if I find your thief? What will you do?"

"Turn them over to the authorities, of course," he said, surprised. "What else would I do?"

"Oh, I don't know; torture and maim and threaten them until you get your money back?" I said sarcastically.

He shot a look in my direction, giving a low chuckle. "I think you've watched _The Godfather_ one too many times, Sookie. Yes, I could torture them, but I don't want any more problems than I already have on my plate, and I don't see why I should go to the trouble, frankly. It's far more expedient to get your human authorities to do the dirty work for me."

I wasn't sure quite how I felt about his reasons, but at least he didn't seem inclined to rip the fingernails out of any of the humans (or worse). "What if it's not a human, though? What if it's a vampire?"

I could see his eyebrows slide up. "A _vampire_?" He thought for a moment, mulling it over in his mind. "I had not considered it as a possibility, that one of my own kind might be so foolhardy as to steal from me. Why do so? Why not simply ask me to loan them money, if they need it?"

I looked at him curiously. "You'd have done that, then, if they asked?"

He gave an easy shrug. "I helped Pam buy her first house, something she has long since repaid. She knows I would help her again if she needed it, and would not be afraid to ask, though to my knowledge she has no need of financial assistance at present. The others… who knows?" He remained thoughtful for a moment. "If it is a vampire, then that will be dealt with by the vampire authorities. Though as I _am_ the vampire authority for this area…" he grinned, "they would be foolish indeed to think they could get away with it."

I shifted uncomfortably. "Right."

"Our laws are not your laws," he said gently. "If it turns out to be a vampire, when we get to the bottom of this, I will involve you no further in the matter. If a human, I will turn them over to the authorities."

"I guess that's fair," I said slowly.

"You seem ill at ease," he commented, after a moment's silence.

"I don't usually try to use my telepathy," I said shortly. "Usually, I try to block it out as much as possible, rather than deliberately going into someone's head. I've never used it in a targeted way."

"I see." He was frowning. "Bill did not mention this to me," he said. "I was not aware this was something you were uncomfortable with. He said it was something you had had since childhood."

 _Why, thank you, Bill_ , I thought snidely. "I _have_ had it since childhood," I said curtly. "That doesn't mean I'm happy about it. And would it have made a difference, anyway? You'd still have forced me into doing this, wouldn't you?"

His eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. "Sookie, what _has_ Bill been telling you?" he asked. "I called Bill a couple of nights ago regarding my request for your presence at Fangtasia. He said you were willing."

He hadn't put it that way to me. "The way he explained it, it sounded as though he was _ordered_ to bring me because you're in charge of the area, and as I'm with him, you get to play fast and loose with our lives."

"It's true that he must obey me," he shrugged. "I am his sheriff. You, however, I have no jurisdiction over."

"He seemed to think that, if I didn't go willingly, you'd simply… I don't know, find some way to coerce me," I said uncomfortably. "Maybe threaten him, or someone I loved, or…"

Glancing over at him, I noticed his fangs were down, and he looked absolutely furious. "He said this to you?"

"Um… yes?" I squeaked.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered, pulling into the parking lot of the bar. "I'd have paid you a visit, certainly, but I would have been on my very best and most charming behaviour to try to get you to agree. I'm a businessman, Sookie, not a mafia boss. Granted, I could make your life a misery if I really wanted to, but where is the benefit to me in that? It is better for us both if you are content."

I wondered if Eric really meant that – his anger suggested that he did, certainly – and if so, how Bill had misread the situation so badly. I got out of the car slowly, and followed Eric to the back door of the club; he held it open for me as I went inside, and showed me into his office, ushering me to a seat. He pressed a button on the phone on his desk. "Pam, we are here. Bring Long Shadow and Bruce in," he snapped out, clearly still irritated by what I'd told him. "Bruce is my accountant," he said to me, pressing the button on the phone again. He came and crouched beside me, taking both my hands in his big one – a hand that I was well aware could crush mine without even trying. I'd never work again. "When this is done, I think I must speak with you further about what Bill has been saying," he said quietly, looking at me intently. "I can see you are fearful of me." There was a rap on the door. "We will speak of this later," he said, standing up. "Enter," he barked out.

The two vampires came in with a paunchy, perspiring man who looked distinctly nervous. All of them nodded to Eric, who motioned Bruce to sit.

"Bruce, this is my associate, Miss Stackhouse," Eric said smoothly. "She has some questions to ask you regarding the money you alerted me was missing."

I shuffled my chair a little closer; Bruce was a loud broadcaster, so I didn't have to touch him to pick up his thoughts (a good thing, in my book, given how heavily he was perspiring). They were a jumble of worry and panic, of wishing he'd kept his mouth shut about what he'd found, and wondering if he'd get into trouble; I could tell he hadn't stolen the money, but had to ask some questions for the look of it. "Bruce, do you know who stole the money?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "No, ma'am. I'd have said if I'd have known. All I know is, the books don't add up, in a big way."

I sat back, shaking my head. "Not this guy."

"You may go. Send Ginger in," Eric said to him.

He fled, and I relaxed a little into the blissful silence of their minds. I know, that's crazy, right? Any one of them could have killed me quicker than you could spit, but it was sheer bliss to be with _three other people_ , and yet be alone in my head.

Ginger, one of the waitresses, sauntered in. "Hey, sweetie," she purred at Eric, and I tried very hard not to roll my eyes. Judging by the tiniest quirk of his lips, he'd noticed – clearly he was as unimpressed by her unoriginality as I was.

"My associate here has some questions to ask you," he said, sounding bored. "You will answer them."

"Yes, Master," she breathed. I bit my lip to stop myself from giggling when Eric caught my eye, and one eyebrow flicked infinitesimally upwards. I might not be able to read his mind – and what bliss _that_ was – but I could still read facial signals and body language well enough. His eyes were daring me to laugh.

Unlike Bruce, Ginger wasn't a broadcaster, so I had to lean towards her, and reached out to take her wrist – it's easier to 'read' people if I have some form of contact with them. "Don't touch me!" she snapped, recoiling.

Eric growled. "Pam, hold her arms."

Quick as a flash, the female vampire was there, pinning Ginger to the chair by her upper arms. I reached out again nervously, but the waitress didn't try to stop me this time. "Do you know who stole the money?" I asked, taking her wrist. I gave a gasp, finding her mind as full of holes as a Swiss cheese. "She knows who did it," I said slowly, as she shrieked, "but she can't say the name." She thrashed her head from side to side. "It's like her mind's full of holes."

"She has been glamoured into not revealing the name, then," said Eric grimly. He gazed at the waitress dispassionately. "Go; send Belinda in." She staggered out. "It seems you were right in your guess that a vampire was behind this. I'm impressed, Miss Stackhouse; it was well thought-out."

The tension in the room seemed to rise a few notches, Pam's head snapping up to stare at him, and Long Shadow hissing. Suddenly, the office was somehow filled with his presence, and they subsided.

The second waitress came in, and took the seat Eric waved her to, with a brief nod to him. "Belinda," she said to me by way of introduction, with another nod.

"Sookie," I smiled in greeting. "I have some questions for you."

"Sure," she said, not flinching when I took her wrist.

"Do you know who took the money?" I asked.

"No, I don't," she said directly.

"What vampires had Ginger been with, Belinda?" asked Eric quietly.

The waitress rolled her eyes. "Anyone who'd have her," she said with a snort of disgust. I could hear her add ' _the_ _hussy'_ to the statement in her mind. I gathered she was a bit pickier than her co-worker. Well, good for her.

"Who from here?" I specified.

She bit her lip, suddenly nervous, unwilling to say the name. Her eyes darted in his direction, and I saw the picture in her mind as she shook her head, looking at me pleadingly.

I let out a little breath of air. "It was…"

I didn't get any further than that, though, as Long Shadow leapt over the desk and went for me. I threw my arm up and screamed as his fangs sank into it, and struggled to back away; then the eyes went dull, and his face seemed to fall in on itself, blood rushing out of his mouth, some of it going into mine, and I screamed again, falling to the floor, and rolling away from him.

He started to disintegrate as I looked on in horror, from my place cowering on the floor, a stake protruding from his back; glancing up at Eric, I could see a mallet in his right hand. His fangs were fully down, his eyes slightly glazed, and he was staring directly at me. "Pam, get Belinda out of here," he murmured.

She'd whisked the waitress out before I had a chance to object to being left alone with Eric in this state. He stalked towards me, placing the mallet on his desk. "Let me see your arm."

I scrabbled backwards until my back hit the wall, and I could go no further; I didn't dare take my eyes off him, even to close them, a sense of impending doom settling over me.

"Oh, for…" he reached down and scooped me up easily and sat down on the chair I'd vacated. He took my arm and turned it over to look at the wound; it was still bleeding. "Not so deep; you will live," he pronounced. He started licking it, his tongue surprisingly gentle and soothing. "Did you swallow any of his blood?"

"Some, probably," I croaked out. "Why, what will happen to me?"

He shrugged. "That remains to be seen; normally, we drink the blood of humans, not the other way round. Do things seem clearer to you now?"

I nodded. "Everything seems… sharper. More in focus."

He raised his head, and looked critically at my arm. "That will do; it has stopped bleeding now," he said, standing up and sitting me back down on the chair, and crossing to a cupboard. He brought out a large t-shirt. "Take your shirt off, and put this on. I will wait outside. Leave your shirt on my desk, and I will have it laundered and returned to you."

I let out a shaky sigh of relief when the door clicked closed behind him, and stripped off my now blood-stained shirt, pulling the Fangtasia-branded t-shirt over my head once I'd cleaned the blood from my face and arms with wet wipes from my purse. The t-shirt was huge on me, but it was better than wearing blood-stained clothes in a bar full of vamps, that was for sure.

By the time I exited the office to meet Eric in the corridor, his fangs were retracted, and his eyes were as bright and sharp as they had been before Long Shadow attacked me. I guessed that meant he'd got his bloodlust under control for the moment (and – ah – _other_ lust; I'd been very aware of a fair amount of interest when he'd sat me on his lap), and my anxiety came down a notch or two. He gestured to me to follow him, and led me into the club; it was deserted. Had we really been here that long? It hadn't seemed like it. "What's your poison?" he asked me, walking over to the bar.

I was a little taken aback by his use of that idiom, given that English was quite definitely not his first language; Eric's a former Viking, which I guess meant his native language was Old Norse or Old Icelandic, or something. Definitely not English, anyway. "Oh, you don't have to… I mean, I…"

He raised an eyebrow. "You look as though you need a drink."

I felt as though I did, too. "Gin and tonic, please," I said meekly.

I watched as he slid behind the bar. "Single or double measure?"

"Single, thanks."

"Ice and lemon?"

"Yes, please."

He nodded. "It has been some time since I've mixed drinks," he said thoughtfully, "but I think I can mix a gin and tonic without too much trouble." He put a bottle of TrueBlood in the microwave to heat.

It was news to me that he'd mixed drinks at all. "You, ah, you were a bartender?"

He nodded. "Some years ago. It enabled me to work at night, and have access to the company of many willing females."

I was a little disconcerted by that, and rather wished I hadn't asked. Still, he poured my drink deftly, with flair, and I noticed that he'd used a really good gin, not the house gin I would normally have gone for. Once it was poured, and his bottle of blood heated through, he waved me towards one of the booths.

"Come. Let us sit in comfort for a while, and talk, while we have our drinks." He sat opposite me, sipping at his synthetic blood. He wrinkled his nose. "Not as good as yours," he said ruefully. "I don't suppose you would…?" he asked hopefully, gazing at my arm.

I sat back. "Not a chance."

He shrugged. "Worth a try," he said with a smile, seemingly not at all put out.

I relaxed a little. "You need an area rug," I said, partly for something to say. He looked at me quizzically. "There's a scorch mark on your office floor, where he – ah, where he…" I trailed off, and gulped down a large mouthful of my G&T. _Damn_ , that gin was good. I tried to focus on the taste of my drink, perhaps enhanced by the vampire blood I'd accidentally ingested, rather than dwell on the events that had led up to me drinking it.

"I will bear that in mind," he said, looking at me thoughtfully. "You did well, this evening. I was most impressed."

"Thanks?" I quavered.

"I would be glad if I could call on you again for your telepathy," he said smoothly. "As Bill may have mentioned, this evening was partly a test of your ability, before I decided whether or not to offer you a more… hmm… permanent position."

"Excuse me?" I gasped.

He looked momentarily disconcerted. "He did not tell you this?" I shook my head dumbly. "It did not occur to you that, if I had wanted answers from these humans, I could have used my glamour on them to force them to tell me the truth? Unlike you, they are none of them resistant to it."

It hadn't occurred to me, but maybe it should have done. "He… didn't say anything like that."

"He mentioned that I was thinking of offering you a position, though, to pay you for any further work you might do for me. Yes?"

"Ah, no," I said apologetically – though I wasn't sure quite what I was apologising for. It seemed to me that it was _Bill_ who ought to be apologising for keeping me in the dark. Perhaps he hadn't wanted to worry me, I thought charitably.

Eric looked furious, his eyes glittering, his fangs running out. He muttered something I didn't understand. "Well, no matter," he said stiffly. "Enough that I was duly impressed by your work this evening, and will pay you for any further work you do. A fair rate, on an _ad hoc_ basis." He looked at me unblinkingly. "What do you say?"

"I guess I'd… like to know a bit more about what that would entail," I said cautiously.

"Of course, I had anticipated as much," he said. "But I think you will want to sleep on it for a few days, particularly after this evening's events." He handed me a printed piece of paper. "These were my initial thoughts, and if you are in agreement, we can formalise this at a later date. Or keep it more informal, and I can pay you in cash." He leant back against the seat, regarding me through half-closed eyes, and I wondered if this was another test – to see how I'd react to that offer.

I tucked the paper into my purse without looking at it. "I'll read it over tomorrow, and think about it," I said firmly.

He inclined his head in acknowledgment. "In the meantime, Sookie, we must discuss what Bill has been saying to you," he said, his displeasure showing in the tone of his voice. "I do not care for this."

"I'm sure there's a good reason for it," I said stoutly.

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not," he said simply, "and I have known him much longer than you have." My heart sank. "Tell me how you met him."

So I told him, in as much detail as I could remember, about the incidents with the Rattrays (he didn't look pleased), and about the Monroe vampires.

"Those renegades," he hissed. "They were in and out of trouble more than any other in the Area. I was always having to haul them in for one misdemeanour or another. You are lucky to be alive. But why were you helping him with these workmen? Why did he not have a day man handling it?"

"A what?"

He looked startled. "Most vampires, except those who are newly turned, and who remain with their maker until they are released, employ a human to run errands for them in the daytime, when they cannot. Higher ranking vampires, such as myself, will have a day man – or woman – who works exclusively for them, but for lower ranking vampires, there are pools of trusted individuals who work for them; they are called on when necessary, and it is sometimes possible to request the services of a particular human if they work well with you, and if they are not already running errands for another vampire," he explained. "Though he is not high-ranking enough to have his own day person, he could have called on one."

"Maybe he thought that, as I knew the workmen in the area, I'd be a better bet," I said reasonably.

He gave me a look. "Or it was his intention that you should meet those vagabonds," he said. "Your telling of that tale suggests that it upset you greatly, made you view all other vampires with more suspicion. You feared me because of that."

His tone dared me to contradict him; I couldn't.

"It seems to me that he has been planting false ideas in your mind, my dear," he said gently. "No doubt aided by the fact that you have had his blood. This will have given him some influence over you – though given your immunity to being glamoured, it might not be so much as with a normal human."

I felt suddenly sick. "You wouldn't know what business prevented him from being here tonight, would you?" I whispered.

He shrugged. "Not really; all he said was that the Queen had called him back to New Orleans urgently."

"Queen?" I said weakly.

He stared at me. "Sophie-Anne Leclerq is the name of the Queen of Louisiana," he said finally. "Each state – bar Wyoming, where there are no vampires – has a vampire monarch, and is therefore also a kingdom. Each kingdom is divided up into Areas – they used to be called fiefdoms, but it was decided that it was just too antiquated. Each Area is run by a Sheriff. This is Area Five."

"And you're the sheriff," I said numbly.

"Yes," he confirmed. "I uphold vampire law, settle disputes, and the like. Bill has made no mention of this to you?" I shook my head. "I told him that he might do so, rather than keeping it secret from you; that it would benefit you to understand something of our lives, our hierarchies, if you were to work for me."

"He didn't say."

"This is most strange," he said. "And he didn't tell you what his business was? Not even why Sophie-Anne had called him to her, what he was working on for her?" I shook my head. "I will question him when he returns," he said with a frown. "Something about this sits ill with me. I will discover the truth of it, though. Why is the Queen's Procurer suddenly…" he halted, his eyes widening, as he came to the same conclusion I just had. "Ah."

"Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea," I gasped, my mind reeling. "He was sent to procure _me_."

In the movies, or in books, that's where pandemonium would have broken out, but it was just me and a Viking, sitting in an empty club. His face was tense and angry as he sat silently. "You may be right, you may be wrong," he said eventually. "We should not jump to hasty conclusions."

"Yes, but…"

"Did he say when he would be back?" he asked, as if I hadn't spoken.

"A week, he thought."

"Can you make a decision on working for me within the week?" he asked calmly. "If you are acknowledged as one of my retinue, I can protect you – prevent him from taking you unwillingly to work in New Orleans, where you would probably be treated no better than a pet."

I didn't much care for the idea of being in his 'retinue', but there were better things to worry about right then. "And the Queen?"

"Let me worry about her," he said in a voice that could cut diamonds.

I swallowed. "I can come to a decision before he gets back," I said. "Do you have a business card, or…"

He scribbled a number on the back of a Fangtasia business card, and handed it to me. "That is my cell phone number. Call me when you have made a decision; if it is during the day, leave a voicemail, and I will get back to you."

I mumbled a barely audible 'thanks'.

"You are weary," he said abruptly when I stifled a yawn. I nodded, setting my now empty glass down on the table. "I will drive you home." And just like that, I found myself hustled to the car, Eric locking up the club on the way out. "First in, last out," he said ruefully, at my curious look; I'd assumed it would be beneath him, but clearly he was very hands-on when it came to the bar.

The drive back was silent – for part of it, I slept, as Eric had put the roof up, and the car was comfortably warm. I blinked sleepily as he pulled into my drive, wincing as he navigated the potholes. I really needed to get that fixed, I thought to myself, grimacing when I considered how expensive that was going to be.

To my surprise, Eric got out of the car, and waited until my front door was unlocked. "All is well, no visitors," he said serenely, and I thought with a sudden shudder of my poor Gran, ambushed in the kitchen.

"Is that what you meant, earlier?" I asked softly. "When you were asking if I lived alone?"

He nodded cupping my cheek gently with his hand. "Bill told me about your grandmother," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "One of the things I have suggested, as you will see, is to set a guard on your home until the murderer is caught. Your ability is valuable, rare, and I would have it – you – protected."

"Oh," I breathed.

He smiled down at me, and very gently brushed his lips to mine. "As I said, _I_ am not the Big Bad Wolf," he reminded me. I watched as he returned to his car, and waved as he drove off.

 _No, maybe you're not,_ I thought, mulling over the evening's events. _But maybe Bill is,_ I realised, with a sickening sinking of my stomach.


	2. Silk

**A/N: Thank you for you reviews so far! Here's the next instalment...**

* * *

 **Silk**

I didn't sleep well, tossing and turning for a little while, before falling into a fitful sleep. I dreamed, and in the dream, I was wearing a red hooded coat, walking through the woods. Behind me was a wolf, trying to capture me; its fur was dark, almost black. I started to run, knowing it was closing in on me; if I could reach my grandmother's house I would be safe, the wolf couldn't get me there! But he was closing in fast, and I stumbled over a tree root, crying out in pain. A figure loomed over me, blotting out the light; I whimpered in fear, but the woodsman simply picked me up, running with me to the house, taking me to safety. I couldn't see his face, but his hair was silken and blond.

I sat up in bed in a cold sweat, shaking from the nightmare. Unable – or perhaps unwilling – to fall asleep again, I picked up the sheet of paper Eric had given me, and started reading it through. Though I had a contract for Merlotte's, a lot of what was on the paper confused me. I hesitated, checking the time, then realised that, it being just before dawn, Eric would most likely still be up. I drew on my chenille robe, and went down to the kitchen and perched myself on the stool, dialling his cell phone number.

It was answered after two rings. "Northman," said the faintly accented voice I'd come to recognise.

I hesitated for a moment. "I didn't know that was your last name," I said.

"Sookie, my darling, how delightful," he purred. "Northman is the name I use for convenience. And what can I do for you?"

"I couldn't sleep, and was reading through the… pre-contract, or whatever you want to call it," I said. "I'm not sure I've understood all of it. I had a few questions, that's all."

"Mm-hmm. It is too close to dawn for me to guarantee staying awake through all of your questions, as I imagine there are plenty; I will come by this evening before going to the bar, and you can ask whatever you like. This is acceptable?"

"Sure," I said, making a mental note to check I had plenty of TrueBlood in the fridge. I usually did, since I'd started dating Bill – which reminded me of another question I wanted to ask him. "Is there a way of stopping a vampire entering your house, once he has an invitation?" I blurted out.

There was a surprised silence on the other end of the line. "Yes, there is. But if you are uncomfortable about inviting me into your home, we can meet somewhere else, if you prefer."

"Oh, ah, I didn't mean… no, that's fine, I just… just in case… Bill…" I stuttered to a halt.

"Ah… yes, Compton, of course. If you feel the need, you would say his name, and 'I rescind your invitation', and he will be unable to enter, or, if he is in the house already, he must leave it."

"Okay," I said with relief. "Thank you."

"It is near dawn," he said, sounding as if he'd put the phone on speaker, and was moving around as he spoke to me. "Even if he is a threat to you, even if he has returned early from New Orleans, he will be doing as I am doing, and preparing for his daily rest. You will be safe to sleep."

"To sleep, perchance to dream," I quoted wryly.

"Dreams I cannot guard you from," he said lightly. "But they are just that – night terrors cannot harm you."

I blinked a little, surprised by the mistiness of my eyes; his words had sounded, for a moment, uncannily like something my father might have said to me when I was a child. Something my Gran had said, too, when I'd had a bad dream about my great-uncle, and I'd told her – told her everything. "Did you ever have children?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yes, two boys and a girl survived me," he replied. "Why do you ask?"

I shrugged, even though he couldn't see me. "Sounded like something a parent will always say to a child, that's all."

There was a soft sound of amusement. "I don't think of you as a child, and I certainly don't see myself as being a father-figure to you," he said, his voice lilting and teasing with laughter, "as I would be happy to demonstrate."

I held the receiver away from my ear, and stared at it a moment, before bringing it back again. "Are you _flirting_ with me?" I asked, baffled. Not one of my sharpest moments, I grant you, but it had been a long, stressful, pretty much sleepless night.

"Of course. What better time to flirt with a beautiful woman than when you're getting ready for bed?" came the reply, as soft and seductive as silk.

I confess, right at that moment, I wasn't too unhappy about it, either. "Next you'll be trying to discuss nightwear with me," I said, trying to sound sharp, rather than curious and, let's be honest, downright encouraging.

He took the bait. "I wear nothing at all to bed, my darling… the better to feel the silk sheets on my skin," he purred.

I think I squeaked, as much from the intriguing and enticing mental image as from the shock that he'd actually said it. "Oh, um, right, well…"

He laughed. "Actually, I have to disappoint you there; the sheets are high-grade Egyptian cotton, and I wear sleep pants. You?"

"Pyjamas or a nightgown, cotton sheets," I shot back automatically.

"How terribly conservative of us, don't you think?" he teased.

"I prefer practical. Silk's a bitch to clean." I'd had a silk blouse, once, a gift from Aunt Linda. Never again, that's all I'll say.

"True enough. You will be able to sleep now?"

I smiled; had Eric been flirting with me just to take my mind off things? Maybe, but it didn't really matter. "I think so. Thank you," I added impulsively.

He chuckled. "You're welcome. Sweet dreams, and I will see you this evening."

I hung up feeling much better, glad that I'd called him. It seemed a little strange that, having been so terrified of him before this evening, and despite the fact I'd seen him kill another person, I felt a lot more comfortable with him than I had done previously. _Why_ had I been so afraid of him, that first time I'd met him? Looking back, nothing he'd done had been any more threatening than anything I might come up against on a normal Friday night working at Merlotte's – a deliberate eye-fuck and a come-on. Well, big deal – why had I over-reacted so much to that?

I recalled Eric's comment about Bill using his blood to influence me, and my own blood ran cold. Had he deliberately made me fear Eric, using his blood (or his understanding of psychology; I remembered suddenly he'd told me he'd studied it for a while)? And if he _had_ been trying to make me afraid of Eric, why – because Eric was his superior and could protect me, or could there be some other explanation? I made a mental note to ask Eric about that, too. I gazed longingly at the telephone, before giving myself a mental slap. I was _not_ a needy female who was going to keep ringing him all the time, especially this close to dawn, when he'd be needing to rest.

And speaking of needing to rest, I did, too, I thought with a yawn, glancing out of the window. I smiled; the birds were already singing in the dark, so dawn was not far off; Eric had kept me talking as long as he could so that I would know I was safe.

I slid back into bed, and grinned a little at the feel of the cotton against my feet. _Silk sheets, indeed,_ I thought with a giggle, pulling the covers over me. But something inside me seemed to warm and glow at the memory of our conversation, and I felt more relaxed as I hugged the pillow to myself.

It wasn't long before I fell asleep again, and this time, my sleep was deeper. I dreamed again, but this was a different type of dream entirely. In this dream, a man was curling his body protectively around mine, spooning behind me – I could tell from the hairs on the arms that held me that he was blond – and the coolness of his body was matched by the slip of the silk sheets against our skin. Surprisingly, despite that, it wasn't especially erotic (more's the pity, I thought when I woke up), but was somehow gently comforting, and very, very safe.

It was late into the morning by the time I woke up, feeling more refreshed than I'd expected. I was working the lunchtime shift, so had to hustle to get out in time, but made it in record time – perhaps because of the vampire blood I'd swallowed the previous night.

"What happened to your arm?" asked Sam, nodding to the bite mark.

"Dog bit it," I fibbed automatically.

He frowned. "Had it had its shots?"

"Yup," I smiled brightly. "All good."

Thankfully, I had to deal with some customers at that point, so I avoided the worst of his questions. I was glad of that, as I didn't feel up to talking about my suspicions with anyone, as hurtful as they were. And boy, did it hurt, to think that Bill, my boyfriend, my first lover, might have been playing me all along! Not just that, either; what hurt more than anything was the thought that I'd been so naïve I'd been taken in.

I tried to remind myself that they were only suspicions, that we couldn't be sure of anything just yet, but when I looked more dispassionately at the situation, it seemed altogether too likely. I gave a soft sigh, and slumped against the bar momentarily.

"Everything okay, cher?" asked Sam anxiously.

"Fine," I said absently, lying through my teeth. "Just tired." That was far from the truth. After my phone-call with Eric, I'd slept like a log, and I felt remarkably awake now.

"Best have an early night, then," he commented, polishing a glass and putting it away.

"Mm," I murmured non-committally. I figured that would depend on when Eric left.

I scurried off at the end of my shift, glad to get away. I stopped off on the way home to go to the shops, and stashed my groceries away neatly, before heading off to shower; the greasy smell of work made me wrinkle my nose even more than usual – maybe another after-effect of the vampire blood. I luxuriated in my shower; I felt almost as if I could feel every single drop of water on my skin. It was the best shower I'd ever had.

I stretched out on the sofa once I'd changed into comfortable jeans and a light-weight sweater, and relaxed with my latest library book. There was a while to go until dusk, and it was a rare joy to have some quiet time just to myself. As tends to happen, though, that time went quickly, and I had an early meal, knowing that Eric would be on his way over from Shreveport soon.

This time – unlike the previous evening – I waited with anticipation, rather than nervousness. Speaking with Eric on the telephone, in particular, had helped me see beyond my fear of him; it had been so normal a conversation (even taking into consideration the flirting), with him clearly doing some pretty normal, domestic stuff while he spoke to me. It made him seem more… well, I guess _human_ wasn't exactly the right way of putting it, but less of a frightening ogre, anyway. I liked the fact that he'd been open about vampire matters, telling me all sorts of titbits of information to help me understand the world he – and Bill – inhabited. It made me feel… I tried to think of the right word… _empowered._

I'm a Southern girl. I like that kind of thing, I like making my own decisions, doing things my own way. I guess I'm a bit stubborn and headstrong, but Eric's information, such as it had been so far, had started to give me some tools to work with, rather than stumbling about in the dark blindly, trying to negotiate a world I simply didn't comprehend. I was grateful to him for that. And I'd started to like him as a person, too, even though I'd only met him a couple of times. He'd shown that he had a good sense of humour, a ready laugh; he 'got' me, as some of his comments – like understanding how restful vampire minds were to me, and that my dreams were bothering me too much to allow me to sleep – showed. I figured that he was a guy that I could actually talk to about all sorts of things. He was fun.

Being strictly honest, I'd quite liked the flirting, too. It hadn't felt threatening, in any way, just a little harmless fun, and it helped that – well, Eric's drop dead gorgeous, excuse the pun. Having a good-looking guy flirt with you is always going to send your confidence soaring, isn't it? Right then, mine was pretty much stratospheric. It wasn't a feeling I was used to, but I liked it.

He turned up a little earlier than I'd expected, and I couldn't help but smile, drinking in the sight of him – tight blue jeans that set off his eyes (and butt; okay, so I noticed), and a black t-shirt that clung lovingly to every sculpted muscle. His long blond hair was loose, and rippled invitingly down his back. I tried not to drool. Drooling's just not classy.

"Eric, hi, come on in," I said, thanking my lucky stars that my brain and mouth were still functioning on the same wavelength. No embarrassing faux pas yet.

"Thank you," he said, stepping over the threshold.

"Can I get you a TrueBlood? I have some O positive, and a couple of AB negative," I offered.

"O positive, thank you."

I heated the bottle in the microwave, and made myself a sweet tea, while Eric sat at the kitchen table, quietly observing me. "Thanks for coming over. And for talking to me this morning," I said.

He shrugged one massive shoulder. "It was a pleasure," he said with a slight smile. I poured the synthetic blood into a glass, and put it in front of him. "You had some questions?"

I nodded. "Some about this," I said, tapping the sheet of paper that I'd laid on the table ready, "and some about other things."

"Where do you want to start?"

"You mentioned Bill having some sort of influence over me, because I'd had his blood?" I ventured. It was as good a place to start as any.

"Yes, we can use this to… control a human, to a certain degree. It is rarely done – only where there is some need to keep the human completely loyal, or if they are especially valuable. Or possibly, in your case, I suspect both."

"So, if that's the case, what would he have been doing with it? Does it fade over time? Can it be broken?"

"One thing at a time," he laughed. "The easier questions first. Yes, it fades over time, so long as the blood-giving is not repeated, and no blood bond has been formed. Yes, it can be broken before it has faded completely, but only by drinking the blood of an older, and therefore more powerful, higher-ranking, vampire, or with the vampire's death. I was thinking about this as I drove over; if you have only drunk from Bill once, as you said, to heal your injuries, then the influence he has had over you will have been fading. As Long Shadow was older than Bill, what little blood you swallowed last night would probably have severed the connection, and therefore his influence, completely. But as Long Shadow is no more, he cannot influence you, so my guess is that it is as if that blood-giving had never taken place."

"Would Bill be able to tell?" I asked anxiously.

He thought for a moment. "I think, as the tie would have been fading anyway, he may think it is simply that. I would not be surprised if he finds some excuse to try to renew it when he returns from New Orleans. But I would not recommend it as a course of action."

"Does that happen with V users?" I asked curiously. "You know, the influence?"

"You know, I don't know," he said thoughtfully. "I wonder. I suspect what they sell is, like most drugs, not pure – possibly thinned down with human or animal blood to make it go further."

I shuddered, wondering if the users had thought about that. "Okay, well, no more drinking from Bill. Or anyone else," I added, for good measure. "But why do you think he did it? Just to make me afraid of you?"

"Perhaps," he said. "Of all the vampires you might meet, living here, I'm the only one who would have enough political power to even think of standing up to Sophie-Anne – or the tactical ability to put you out of her reach. To have you fearing me would mean that you would not tell me the nature of your relationship, of your meeting, your fear of the Monroe crowd… you would shy away from working for me, perhaps. You would be more isolated, dependent on him. You would care more for him, would be loyal to him; you would immediately distrust anyone who spoke ill of him, or questioned his motives."

"Like… brain-washing," I said with a shiver.

"Something like that," he agreed.

"I've… noticed some of the effects of the blood," I said hesitantly.

"Oh?"

"Being able to move faster, for one thing. All my senses seem heightened, too, not just seeing more clearly, but hearing and smell, too – and I swear, when I showered earlier, I could feel every drop of water on my skin."

His eyes glazed over a little, and his fangs ran part-way out. "You wouldn't care to re-enact that, I suppose?" he asked hopefully.

"No, I would not!" I said tartly, blushing.

"Shame," he muttered, slouching back in his chair with a sigh. "Those effects probably won't last long," he added.

"It's been easier to control my telepathy, too," I said thoughtfully.

"Really? Hmm, interesting. Have you been physically stronger?"

"A little, I guess."

He nodded. "I think it will simply have strengthened all things."

"I guess that's not so bad," I said. "I suppose you don't know how or why this… Sophie-Anne knew about my telepathy, assuming Bill was sent here, as we thought?"

He shook his head. "Without asking questions, no, and that might alert others to your existence, where it might be more prudent not to do so. I will keep my ears and eyes open for anything that might be useful."

I nodded. "Okay. So, this… one thing really confused me," I said, gesturing at the piece of paper.

"What's that?"

"You mention wanting to acknowledge me as part of the supernatural community. What do you mean by that? You're not thinking of… I mean, I don't want to be a vampire," I said worriedly.

He laughed. "'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy'," he said, eyes twinkling.

"Excuse me?" I asked, wondering why he was spouting Shakespeare at me.

"Simply this: there are humans, and there are vampires, but there are other types of being, also, who walk amongst us, and who you might think are human, but who are, in fact, something… _other_."

"Such as?"

"Werewolves, shifters, demons, and fairies, to name but a few. They keep their 'otherness' a closely guarded secret for now, but I would wager you know at the very least the odd Were or Shifter," he said. "To answer your question, although there is no race of being called 'telepath', it is not a common human trait, and I suspect that, somewhere in your past, there is something that is not quite human; you do not taste entirely human, either, though being able to tell your genealogy from your blood is not a gift of mine, sadly – and I would not have you meet the only vampire I know whose gift it is," he said, frowning.

"You think I'm… not human?" I squeaked.

"I think you are _mostly_ human," he said reassuringly. "But I think there is a little more to you than that."

"So if I'm mostly human, why do you want me acknowledged as part of this… supernatural community?" I asked, bewildered.

"No doubt it will displease you to hear it, but the supernatural community will see humans as being on the lowest of the strata of humanoid beings, beneath, or outside, their hierarchies. To acknowledge you as being somehow within those structures would give you greater protection; you would be seen as more valuable than simply a human would be. Humans are, at least to most vampires, expendable. A telepath, however, is not. A formal acknowledgement would see you have greater respect and protection."

"I guess that's no bad thing, then," I said thoughtfully. I glanced down at the paper. "Whose idea was the job title?"

"Pam's," he said with a grin. "I liked it, though. 'Human Liaison Assistant' sounds much more official than 'the girl who reads minds', and more believable to humans than 'telepath'."

I had to laugh. "I guess it does," I conceded. "But that's basically what I'd be doing? Reading minds?"

"Mm-hmm. I would want you present when I had to meet potential clients, for example, or for any number of dealings Pam and I might have with humans."

"And that's why the clothing allowance?" I checked.

He nodded. "Other members of my retinue –" I flinched, and he rolled his eyes, "– my _team_ ," he corrected himself, "have an account at a couple of stores in Shreveport. I wasn't sure if you would prefer to shop there, or at the store in Bon Temps, as it might be more convenient for you."

"What kind of things would I have to wear?" I asked cautiously. "Not the, ah, outfits you all wear to the club?"

He grinned. "I wouldn't mind if you wanted to," he said, licking one of his fangs as he let them run out; it was my turn to roll my eyes. He retracted his fangs with a twinkle. "No; businesslike clothes – smart pants and blouses, or the like. Pam would be happy to go with you to set you up with a few items, to give you an idea, I'm sure." He laughed, as if at a private joke. "She _loves_ to shop. And she loves clothes, too. She would be in her element."

"That would be real kind of her," I said, thinking that it would be good to have her advice, so I didn't make some kind of fashion faux pas when spending the boss's money.

"So, you are intending to accept the position, then?" he asked.

"One more question," I said. "You're not expecting me to stop working at the bar, right? I mean, the money you're offering is generous, but it's not a regular income, whereas my job at Merlotte's is, and I can rely on that income coming in every month."

He shook his head. "No, I understand that this will be over and above the hours you are already working."

"And I'm going to need enough notice of work you want me to do, so that I can change my hours around, and sort it out with Sam."

He inclined his head. "This is fair. If it is an emergency, however, may I propose that, if you are needed on a night when you are working, I provide one of my own waitresses to cover?"

I thought about it. "I guess that's up to Sam to agree to or not," I said finally. "It's fine by me, of course, but it's his bar, not mine. He gets the final say-so on staffing."

"As it should be," he said smoothly. Of course, as a bar owner himself, he'd understand that. "If these are all your questions, I will speak to him on your behalf, and make that offer. Would you prefer this formalised?"

I took a deep breath. "Yes, I would," I said steadily. "I know that means I'll be paying more tax, but it gives me more protection, too."

To my surprise, he looked pleased. "Then I will have a formal contract drawn up, and bring it over in a couple of days, along with your shirt. It is still at the cleaner's."

"Your t-shirt's still drying," I said with a smile.

"I'm sure it would look even better on you wet," he said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

I shook my head, but couldn't help laughing. "Oh, hush."

A loud thud at the front door made me jump, and shriek. Before I knew it, Eric had flung the door open, fangs down. I sure as hell wouldn't have crossed him – at that moment, he was by far the scariest thing I'd ever seen. I took a step towards him but he held up a hand to stop me. "Don't," he said, a peculiar note in his voice. "Did you… do you have a pet?"

I felt suddenly ill. "A cat," I whispered. "My cat, Tina." I'd let her out earlier, after feeding her. She liked playing outside at night.

"Then I think you will not want to see this," he said, bending down, scooping up a small, furry body.

"Oh no," I whimpered.

"I'm sorry, Sookie," he said gently. "Is there… somewhere I can…?"

I closed my eyes. "There's a hole in the yard," I croaked, willing back the tears. "I was going to plant a live oak, in memory of Gran."

He nodded. "Stay here."

I sank down on the floor, not moving from the spot. A few minutes later, he returned, brushing soil from his hands before closing the front door behind him. I was aware of him going to the kitchen and washing his hands, and then he came back and crouched beside me, silently wrapping his arms around me.

I held onto him, not speaking, not crying, until finally, I could relax a little. He kissed me on the forehead, and helped me up. "Whoever did this was at some distance before I opened the door, and the scent was too faint to track," he said quietly. "They are probably far away by now, but nonetheless, I will stay until I am assured of your safety, whether by remaining here, or by setting someone to guard your house."

I nodded, unable to find the strength to argue.

"Will you be able to sleep?" he asked.

"Maybe," I sniffed.

"I can stay beside you," he offered.

I looked at him, askance, but there was no… impropriety in his tone. "I'm not having sex with you. Just so you know," I snuffled.

He ruffled my hair. "No. I like my women willing, and you are far from that, right now," he said. "Go and get ready for bed, and call me when you are comfortable."

I nodded, and headed towards my bedroom. I paused, just as I reached the door. Without turning around, I asked, "How did she die?"

He was silent for a moment. "Strangled, I think." He didn't need to add that it was how those poor women – Gran included – had died. I'd realised that for myself.

I nodded, and went into my room, closing the door behind me. It was only then that I broke down and wept.


	3. Heat

**Heat**

I was glad that Eric tactfully waited outside my room, and didn't come in to comfort me – not that I thought he was really the comforting kind of person, though he did seem the protective sort. I didn't feel quite so freaked out as I might otherwise have done, knowing that no human was likely to get past the guard of an ancient Viking who was intent on making sure his newly acquired Human Liaison Assistant (I gave a sad, hiccupping snigger at my new job title) came to no harm.

Finally drying my eyes, I changed into an old nightgown, and brushed out my hair. I went to the bathroom and cleaned my teeth – I could hear Eric's voice floating along the hall from the kitchen, presumably talking on his phone, though I couldn't hear what he was saying. I stuck my head round the door on my way back to my room. "I'm done," I said quietly.

He nodded, still on the phone, and a few minutes later he followed me into my room, by which time I was curled up in bed. He cast himself down into the chair in the corner. "There will be twenty-four hour surveillance on your house," he informed me. "At night, one of the vampires of the area will patrol, and during the day, other associates of mine. They will remain hidden so as to disturb you as little as possible. But you will be safe. I will take the first shift tonight, and will stay with you until I must leave to return to Shreveport."

"You're taking this very seriously," I said.

"Someone is making an attempt on your life," he frowned. "First they kill your grandmother, then your pet. Of course this threat must be taken seriously."

I guessed that was a fair point, and kept quiet.

I dozed restlessly for a while, and must have fallen into a deeper sleep, because the next thing I remembered was waking from a nightmare, gasping and clammy. Without a word, Eric toed off his boots and lay beside me on the bed, pulling my head onto his chest as he wrapped his arms around me. "You are safe," he said quietly.

There was silence for a long time. "Your children were very lucky, to have a father like you," I murmured sleepily, snuggling a little closer.

He gave a soft sound of amusement. "Go to sleep, Sookie."

Surprisingly, cuddled up in the arms of a vampire I barely knew, I did just that.

He was gone when I woke up, and sunlight was streaming through the window. I called and reported Tina's demise from Sam's office, after Arlene and Charlsie and Sam talked me into it, and I tried not to think how tiny she'd looked in Eric's big hands as he'd picked her corpse up, as gently as if she'd been a newborn. I couldn't help but wonder at the gesture; as a vampire that old, he must be inured to death, surely? Was it for my sake he'd treated her with such respect – understanding that this was an act designed to hurt me, perhaps warn me, and trying to soften the blow? I didn't see Eric as the type to be fond of animals – but then, I barely knew him. How was I to know whether or not vampires ever kept dogs or cats? For all I knew, he might breed Maine Coon or Ragdoll cats as a sideline.

I cut off that particular line of thought as being totally irrelevant. The point was, even if my grandmother had been an accidental victim, with me being the intended target of the attack, Tina's murder was deliberate, and a message to me: this is what will happen to you for consorting with vampires. I'd received it loud and clear. But I couldn't make it not have happened – and if I were given the choice, would I?

I thought about that. On the one hand, I'd been a virgin until I'd met Bill, and had barely even dated, let alone had a relationship. Being with Bill had made me feel loved and cherished. On the other hand, there was that suspicion of an ulterior motive that I couldn't quite shake, that it was all down to him using his blood to influence me – that even my feelings for him were down to him using his blood, and weren't even 'real'. Again, being with Bill had meant I'd got myself embroiled in a scary-as-hell murder scene over in Shreveport, but that in itself had led to the offer of a second job, security for my house (and therefore my person while I was in it), finding out some real interesting information about vampires, and, of course, the – friendship? – I was beginning to develop with the charming, flirtatious, and charismatic Eric.

I couldn't quite come down on one side or the other, and gave up my inner debate as futile. How could I judge that until I'd found out the truth about Bill, and until I'd worked for Eric for a while? Until the murderer was caught and put behind bars? How could I weigh up the loss Gran and Tina, in all of that?

In the middle of all these ruminations, Arlene surprised me by asking me if I'd look after her two children, Lisa and Coby, for the evening, while she went out with Rene. I remembered the last time we'd discussed it, how hurt and upset I'd been about her asking if Bill would be there. Eric's words rang uneasily in my mind – that I would take offence if anyone slighted him, or whatever the words were he'd actually used. I had been hurt and angry, but if they'd been my kids, wouldn't I have wanted to know they'd be safe? Wasn't she just being a good mother? I felt a little abashed at my behaviour to her then, just as she seemed a little embarrassed, too; I guessed this was her way of apologising.

"I guess I over-reacted, when you asked about Bill last time," I said hesitantly. "You were just looking out for your kids, which is the smart thing to do. You couldn't have known Bill wouldn't have hurt them." At least, I didn't _think_ he would. How could I even be sure of that, now?

She relaxed a little. "It's okay, Sookie, I know how it is, when you've met That Guy, and you can't bear it when not everyone sees him the same way you do. Been there, done that." She pulled a rueful face. "Every single damned time."

I laughed a little with her. "That's love, huh?"

"Sure is," she replied. "I haven't seen him around the last couple of days," she added curiously.

I shook my head. "Out of town, on business. He's had to go to New Orleans."

"Bet you're missing him," she said with a wink.

I just smiled.

 _Was_ I missing him? I considered that. Yes, and then again, no. I missed… well, okay, I missed the sex. That was undeniable. But did I miss _him_ , as such? Honestly, not as much as I thought I would, given that I'd got my suspicions about why he was with me in the first place, and until they were resolved, one way or the other, I was pretty much in limbo on that score. Added to which, a lot of the time I might have spent with Bill I'd been spending with Eric, and his company had been surprisingly pleasant – not just because of the silence of his mind, but because of his sense of humour and fun, his intelligence, and, yes, even his flirting.

By the time Rene dropped the kids off at about six thirty, I'd been home an hour and a half, and had got to be pretty twitchy, sitting on my own in that big, empty house. My mind went back to Eric asking if I lived here all alone (which at the time I'd misconstrued horribly). He had a point. It was real lonely out here, with Bill my nearest neighbour across the cemetery, and even he was away at the moment (and maybe a danger to me, too; I liked to dwell on _that_ even less than the loneliness of my house). Sure, I knew there was someone out in the woods checking up on what was going on, but it wasn't the same as having proper company. Then again, having neighbours hadn't stopped Dawn and Maudette from being murdered. Having my own vampire surveillance system might turn out to be more effective.

As I looked after Lisa and Coby, I wondered idly who was out in the woods watching. The only vampires from Fangtasia I'd met, other than Eric and the now finally-deceased Long Shadow, were Pam and the bouncer who'd carded me, the time I went there with Bill. There'd been other vampires there, of course, but none that I'd spoken to. I wondered how they felt about guarding me, a lowly human – assuming I _was_ human, given what Eric had said.

I pushed that thought away, trying to concentrate on looking after the children, but by nine I was flagging. I wasn't sure if I was more disconcerted or relieved when there was a knock on the door, and went to open it.

"Eric, hi," I said, surprised when I saw who my visitor was, but pleased. "Come on in. I've got a couple of young friends keeping company with me this evening, as you can see." They were peeping around the kitchen door at him.

"So I see," he said, straight-faced. "That's very thoughtful of them. Would you mind if I join you for a while, as you look after Miss Stackhouse?" he asked them. They shook their heads dumbly, wide-eyed, and he smiled genially at them. "Thank you; you are most accommodating."

I hid a smile; it might have been over a thousand years since he'd had children of his own to talk to or play with, but he hadn't lost his touch. He had them pretty much eating out of his hand (figuratively speaking) within minutes, and they were as good as gold for him. I did wonder briefly if he'd glamoured them, but dismissed the thought almost immediately; they weren't being quite good enough for that, and I got the feeling that he was actually rather enjoying it. I was relieved to sit back and let him play some childhood game with them that they'd taught him the rules of (far too complicated for me to understand, but he seemed to pick it up right away), putting my feet up and relaxing after a trying day.

It was soothing to listen into his mind and get nothing. Nada, zero, zilch. If I concentrated on his mind, I could even block out – for the most part – the idle chatter from Lisa and Coby's brains about how cool Uncle Eric was, not stuffy like lots of grownups, and how they hoped they'd be able to play some more with him some time, if they came to visit again. I smiled; children could be so uncomplicated.

Finally, around eleven, Rene and Arlene swung by to pick them up, and Eric simply lifted the two kids up, one on each arm, and carried them out to Rene's truck. They were half asleep; he'd played with them without flagging for two hours solidly, but it was they who were worn out. Arlene gave a broad grin as Lisa snuggled up under her mother's coat and promptly fell asleep. Coby was yawning and rubbing his eyes, trying to stay awake just that little bit longer, listening in to Eric's conversation with Rene.

"New man?" Arlene whispered to me.

I shook my head. "Eric's a friend – of mine, and of Bill's." I wasn't entirely sure either Eric or Bill would completely agree with the latter part of that statement. "He runs a bar in Shreveport, but came over this evening to see how I was doing, what with all the things that have been going on around here."

She looked a little surprised. "That seems pretty nice of him. Sure he doesn't fancy you?"

I laughed, and didn't answer. "He seemed to enjoy playing with the kids. He's tired them out nicely for you."

She nodded. "They'll be asleep in no time. Lisa already is," she said. "Hopefully we can get her into bed without waking her up."

Eric shook hands cordially with Rene, and sent a dazzling smile Arlene's way, complimenting her on having two delightful children, and how proud she must be of them. Eric knew exactly how to get a woman on side, that was for sure, I thought with some amusement as I watched the interactions.

Eventually they drove off, and Eric followed me back into the house. "Aren't you even a little bit tired?" I asked him enviously. I was exhausted.

He shook his head. "One of the perks of being a vampire. I will not tire until near dawn. Besides, I enjoyed their company. Children have intriguing minds; they see the world in a different way to adults, and I find it refreshing."

"I find it exhausting," I said. "TrueBlood?"

"Thank you. There have been no further misadventures?" he asked as I heated up a bottle of blood for him.

I shook my head. "The police might have to dig Tina up to check the – ah, the strangulation marks," I said, feeling slightly queasy. "Though they said that, without the ligature, there probably wasn't much they could do."

"Frustrating, but true," he commented.

I set the bottle and a glass in front of him. "So, did you just happen by, or are you on guard duty this evening?" I asked curiously.

He laughed. "Neither, exactly." He took a thick envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket, which he'd hung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs while he played with Lisa and Coby. "I came to bring this round – the contract for you to sign."

"Oh, sure," I said, reaching for a pen. "Mind if I read it through first?"

"Of course not; it is a wise move, always to read through anything you sign," he said, taking a mouthful of the synthetic blood. "Take your time; I am in no hurry."

"You don't have to be at Fangtasia tonight, then?"

He shook his head. "Pam is covering, as she did last night. Though she'll probably have my ass if I take another night off," he said, amused. "I'll have to go in tomorrow night, whether I like it or not."

"The way you speak of her, you seem… close," I said carefully, not wanting to tread on any toes.

His lips quirked into a smile. "Jealous?" he teased. I rolled my eyes, and pursed my lips severely. He relented. "I am her maker."

"Her what?" I asked blankly.

"Her maker; one who made her a vampire," he explained. "Over the last couple of centuries, though, we've been together more than we've been apart, and though she is free to leave, she chooses to stay at my side." He sounded proud of it; I guessed he must be pretty fond of her.

"So she's sort of like a daughter?" I asked. "That's why you helped her buy her first house?"

"Something like that," he agreed. "She is my second-in-command, my right hand." He grinned. "Robin to my Batman, Watson to my Holmes."

I grinned at the description, liking how Eric was very much up with the popular culture of the day.

"I was wondering if you would like to come to Fangtasia tomorrow night," he said unexpectedly. "We are having a live band, a vampire band, performing; I have heard them once or twice before and they are very good. There will probably be plenty of dancing, a lot of fun… I thought you might like an evening out, after all that has happened, the last few weeks. It might help you take your mind off all these events."

I finished reading through the contract (nothing untoward), and signed it. "Well, I…"

"Of course, as a member of my retinue…" I glared at him, and his eyes twinkled, "my _team_ ," he stressed, and I nodded my approval, "you will not pay the cover charge when you come, even on nights when you are not working. I will make sure they know that, on the door, and let you in."

"Sure, okay then," I said. I'd heard that some vampire bands were very good, and was curious to see what the fuss was about; and, of course, I love to dance, so it would be nice to get out there and dance a bit. It's pretty much impossible to dance and stay miserable, so maybe this was just what I needed. "What time are they starting?"

"They're starting their set at nine, and will play for a couple of hours; even if you leave straight after their set finishes, you can be home by midnight."

I laughed, despite myself. "I don't turn into a pumpkin at midnight if I'm not home, you know."

He grinned easily. "Oh, I know. It must have been nearer half past three when I dropped you home the other night." He pocketed the contract. "I'll make a copy for you," he promised. "Your blouse should be ready to be collected tomorrow, too."

"Oh, your t-shirt is dry!" I exclaimed, suddenly remembering it.

He shrugged. "Bring it tomorrow. I have no urgent need of it."

I settled back into my chair, and we talked for a little while until my yawns grew so big they threatened to split my face in two. "Sorry," I apologised.

"Not at all, I'm keeping you up, when you should be asleep in bed," he said, getting up. "But I have enjoyed my evening immensely, and selfishly did not want it to end. I must go and copy the contract for you, though, and file the original."

I got up, too, and went to the front door with him to see him out. I surprised both of us by hugging him. "Thank you for coming by, and playing with the children," I said. "It's been nice to have the company."

He smiled, hugging me back carefully – perhaps so as not to hurt me inadvertently by squeezing too hard. I guessed vampires weren't big on hugs. "It was a pleasure. Good night, and I will see you tomorrow."

He raised a hand in farewell as he drove off, and I shut the door. Somehow, the house felt warm again, loved and lived-in, and I knew that somewhere out there would be a pale figure, guarding me. I went to bed in a much calmer state of mind, and slept soundly.

I felt more cheerful the next day, having something to look forward to. It had been a while since I'd been out solely for fun; my first visit to Fangtasia had been a fact-finding mission, after all, rather than a social occasion. Going to hear Bill speak at Gran's club hadn't been a whole lot of fun, exactly, either, though it had been interesting. When was the last time this Cinderella had gone to the ball, either with or without a Prince Charming? I honestly couldn't remember.

I spent a fair while going through my wardrobe looking for something suitable to wear – most people dressed in black to go to Fangtasia, but that wasn't really my style. At the same time, though, I didn't want to stand out too much, either, and it had to be something I could dance in comfortably. I scratched my head, flicking through the available choices, until I came across a silver dress I'd really thought of as being more for a wedding, or something like that. Dressed up with a colourful wrap, a nice pair of high heels and a clutch, it would look classy and understated, and hopefully wouldn't draw too much attention to me. The wrong kind of attention, anyway – I didn't want anyone assuming I was some fang-banger just waiting for some vampire, any vampire, to suck on her neck.

There was a shortlist of precisely two vampires I'd let anywhere near my neck. I was startled to realise that, far from being terrified by the idea of Eric biting me, I wasn't wholly averse to the idea. I flushed, remembering the times Bill had bitten me, and in my mind, switched him for Eric.

Okay, imagining that was a _bad_ idea, I realised as I had to sit down quickly on the bed, owing to the sudden heat in the room. I fanned myself with my book, trying to cool down the hectic flush on my face. Would I… want that kind of relationship with Eric? The kind of relationship I had with Bill? More to the point, would _he_? Oh, sure, he'd flirted with me, and I had no doubt he'd be only too happy to have sex with me (if Jason's antics were anything to go by, at least – he'd go after anything in a skirt), but that wasn't the same as wanting anything longer-lasting. I barely knew him – though I hadn't exactly known Bill all that long, either. And Eric was – or seemed to be – more my 'type', if a girl who nobody had wanted to date previously could be said to have a type. Fun-loving, out-going, and somehow more alive than some of the living people I knew.

So, where did that leave me? I was still officially with Bill, and I couldn't very well do much about that, whatever my decision, with him being away. I wasn't the type to dump him by message left at the hotel reception (how cold and unforgivable a 'Dear John' that would be – 'Bill, sweetheart, leaving you for Eric. Bye, now. Sookie.' I shuddered at the thought; Gran would have had a fit). And I couldn't get through to him personally when I'd tried, so that was out of the question, even if I could bring myself to tell him over the phone. No; everything was in limbo – my whole _life_ was in limbo – until the bastard got back from New Orleans.

Boy, did I curse, and loudly.

Still, there was nothing I could do about it, and it wasn't as though going to Fangtasia tonight was a date – I was going on my own, to hear the vampire band ( _Dead Beat_ – undead rockers with a sense of humour), to dance some, and to indulge in a little escapism after a bad week. Bill might not see it that way, given that there would be other vampires there, and in particular Eric, who'd made no secret of his interest in me, but the point was that my life was my own. I was not Bill's personal property, and if I felt like going to the club that happened to belong to my… well, part-time boss, I guess you could call him, that was up to me, not him.

Having given myself that firm little pep-talk, I felt a lot better, and started to get myself ready, showering and shaving my legs, washing my hair and curling it into soft waves, and finally dressing in the silver dress I'd decided on. It swirled nicely as I moved – enough room to dance in, which was what I wanted, and it flattered me pretty well, too. I looked myself over in the mirror, and was pleased with what I saw. Was I a terrible person for hoping that Eric liked what he saw, too? I hoped not, because otherwise, I was a very, very bad person.

I arrived at Fangtasia a little before nine, and true to his word, Eric had notified the bouncer that I was not to pay the cover charge, and I was waved on through. "VIP area, Miss Stackhouse," I was directed. "The Master's orders."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, but followed her directions to the roped-off area near the front of the club, where the band would be playing; it incorporated part of the dance floor, also roped off. I was surprised even further when Pam, who I'd met only twice, kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Eric will be pleased to see you," she smiled, waving over one of the waitresses. "Drinks are free to VIPs, of course. What will you have?"

"Just a soda, please, I'm driving. Ice and lemon."

"And I will have an O negative." The waitress scurried off. She motioned me to the booth Eric and I had sat in before, when the club had been empty; I guessed it was 'his' booth, the one that he used when he wasn't sitting enthroned in splendour.

Which reminded me, "Why does everyone here call Eric 'Master'?" I asked.

"Oh, that was my idea," she said. "The vermin lap it up, that kind of thing. He detests it, of course, as much as he hates sitting on that throne looking moody and unapproachable. But it brings in the punters, and therefore the cash, and this is, after all, a business." I could tell by her tone that she was pretty hard-headed when it came to business.

"So, it's not like a proper title, then?"

"Oh, heavens, no," she said, looking vaguely appalled. "How trashy that would be! No, his title within the supernatural community is 'Sheriff'. A few of the vampires beneath him might also call him 'My Lord', if they are very old-fashioned." She wrinkled her nose daintily as if to say she thought it was a particularly quaint thing to call him.

"What do you call him?" I asked curiously.

She looked baffled. "Eric, of course. What else would I call him?"

Our conversation was interrupted by the arrival both of our drinks, and the subject of our conversation. "Apologies, ladies, I had to sort out some technical glitches with the band," he said smoothly, sliding into the booth beside me. "I'm glad to see you both have drinks. O positive, Lettie," he said to the waitress.

She gave a kind of bow. "Yes, Master."

He glared at Pam. "Do we have to keep up with that idiocy?" he complained once the waitress was out of earshot. "It's so… so… Bela Lugosi."

I stifled a giggle at the _Dracula_ reference as Pam glared right back. "It's what they pay for. They pay to come and be scared, not for family-friendly fun."

"See what I must put up with?" he said to me, with a hurt, wounded look. I couldn't help but laugh.

"You do very well out of it," said Pam crisply; I could tell this was an argument they'd had any number of times before. I rather thought their relationship was almost more like an older brother and younger sister than anything else, with Eric allowing Pam to boss him around when it suited him (though I was pretty sure that, if he really put his foot down about anything, she'd do whatever he said).

"The indignities I suffer," he said with a mock-sigh.

Unsurprisingly, Pam ignored that comment.

The band got started, warming up with a few old favourites, covers of songs I already knew. They were good, I have to say, and it wasn't long before my toes were tapping surreptitiously under the table. Eric noticed, and grinned, finishing off his TrueBlood. "Come, dance," he said, sliding out of the booth, and holding out his hand to me.

I felt a little self-conscious to begin with, as nobody else was dancing, but others soon joined us on the dance floor, and I began to get into the swing of it. Despite the difference in our heights, Eric and I danced well together – he was a good leader, very easy to follow, even through moves I wasn't familiar with, and he danced with flair and grace. I couldn't remember a time I'd enjoyed dancing with a guy more – mostly their dancing had been a not-too-veiled attempt to feel a girl up, but Eric could really, seriously dance. We danced song after song, some fast rock 'n' roll mixed in with a few slower numbers, until I just had to stop to get my breath back, and sat drinking another soda, fanning myself with my hand. The band took a mid-session break, and Eric took the opportunity to go and speak with them for a few moments, leaving me sitting with Pam.

"It's so unfair that you don't feel the heat," I grumbled to her.

She gave a laugh. "We feel differences in temperature, in that we are aware they're there, but they don't bother us."

"The heat in here sure bothers me," I said regretfully.

"Sure that's not just your dance partner?" she asked archly. My eyes widened. "Oh, don't be so coy; I've seen the way you two look at each other. Added to which, I've barely seen Eric the last few nights. He's clearly besotted."

That was news to me. "You think so?" I said doubtfully, my heart fluttering a little at the idea.

"I have never known him be so… hmm… _attentive_ , previously, to any woman," she answered with cool amusement. "Nor so protective. It is most unusual, and unlike him, I assure you."

I flushed a little, thinking. Was this just a clever ploy on Eric's part, to get Pam to tell me what I wanted to hear (did I want to hear it? Judging by the fluttering inside me, I certainly did), or was this a genuine observation based on having known him for so long? "He's not asked you to say that, has he?" I asked dubiously.

She gave a snort of laughter. "No. Nor would he welcome my having discussed this with you, so I would be obliged if you do not mention this conversation to him."

I wasn't stupid; I wasn't going to risk Pam's wrath by blabbing to Eric. I valued my life – never more so than now, when someone seemed hell-bent on taking it from me. I made the mistake of looking over to where Eric was chatting to the band members, his back to me. _Oh, my, that butt!_ I thought, as he bent to pick something up. "It really _is_ very warm in here," I gasped, turning my eyes back to Pam's face.

She smirked. "If you say so." Eric sauntered back over as the band drank their TrueBloods. "Sookie is a little warm," commented Pam serenely to him. "I was about to suggest she take a breath of fresh air outside."

I wondered what she was up to, until Eric held his hand out to me. "Of course; I will go with you, to make sure nobody bothers you."

I gave Pam a death glare, which just made her smile even wider, the tips of her fangs more prominent. I followed Eric out through the employees' entrance round the back, and gulped in some of the cooler evening air.

"Better?" he asked softly, and I was suddenly aware of just how close he was. "You should have said, if you were feeling unwell."

"It's… just hot in there," I stuttered, reacting to his proximity. It seemed pretty warm outside all of a sudden, too. Maybe Pam had a point. He slid his arms around my waist, and I tried to resist the urge to lean against him. I wasn't wholly successful. Then he bent his head, and kissed me.

I'd like to be able to say I pulled away immediately, thinking of Bill, but I doubt anything would have given me the strength of will to pull away from Eric right then. My whole body seemed to go into meltdown, and all I could do was to kiss him back, until I had to pull back for air.

I swallowed. "Eric, I…"

"You can't say you don't want this, surely?" he asked, lips fluttering over my ear. I discovered I really liked that.

"It's not that I don't want it," I said carefully, trying not to give in to temptation and kiss him again, "but I'm with Bill. I… should talk to him first, tell him…"

"Tell him…?"

"That it's over."

He pulled back a little way. "This is a human thing?" he asked uncertainly. "As a vampire, he must accept it if you come to me of your own free will."

"Sure, but I should still tell him," I said stubbornly. "That's only fair."

He nodded. "If this is what you wish, I will abide by it."

We headed back into the club, and though I found my hand enfolded in his as I was drawn onto the dance floor again, he was true to his word, and just danced. It was something of a trial to my willpower not to throw myself at him, and I found myself wishing that Bill would come back just so I could resolve this thing with Eric.

I should have heeded Gran's warnings about being careful what I wished for; when I got back home, near midnight, there was a vampire sitting on my porch, and he did _not_ look happy. I put on a cheery smile, and greeted him. "Bill."


	4. Fear

**Fear**

"Where have you been?" he asked in his cool, smooth voice.

"Out," I said shortly. "How was New Orleans?"

"Boring, without you. Where did you go?"

I got the feeling he wasn't lightly going to let this go. "I went to Fangtasia. There was a live band, _Dead Beat_ , playing there this evening."

He sniffed suspiciously. "You smell of Eric," he said, his voice flat.

"We danced a few numbers together," I said with a shrug. Okay, so there was a little more than just dancing, and the dancing itself had been most of the evening, but still. I objected to the possessiveness even more strongly than normal.

He frowned. "Eric is dangerous, Sookie," he said.

"So are you," I shot back, before he could carry on further with that line of thought – it wasn't as if I didn't know that. "Anyone can be dangerous. Heck, even _I_ can be dangerous on a bad day. And he's been pretty decent to me, the last few days, when I really needed a friend."

He clearly didn't like the sound of that. "Why? What has happened?"

"Someone murdered my cat and threw her body at my door," I said harshly. "Eric… took her and buried her for me. And stayed to make sure nobody attacked me."

"You had sex with him," he said, seemingly as an observation, without any inflection in his voice.

"No, I most certainly did not!" I said indignantly, furious that he'd think that, and hurt that he saw that as more important than the death of my pet. "I stayed faithful to you, Bill. But now you're back, I can tell you _it's over!_ "

He stared at me, lips compressing into a thin line. "You are going to Eric."

"Yes," I said. "I was only waiting for you to get back so I could tell you to your face. And now I have." I walked up the steps towards the front door, and as I passed him, he caught hold of my arm.

"You're making a mistake," he said urgently. "Eric is just playing you, no matter what he says to the contrary. Why are you throwing away what we have?"

"Bill, let go of my arm," I said, more steadily than I felt, wishing I'd had the foresight to get into the house first, before talking to him, where I could at least have rescinded his invitation. I tried to pull my arm away, but he held onto it, giving me a beseeching look. "Bill, let _go._ "

"Yes, Bill, let go," said another voice. It was faintly accented. I looked in the direction it had come from, to see a blonde woman leaning casually against the wall of the house.

He loosened his hold on my arm. "Who are you?" he snarled, asking what I was thinking, "And what are you doing here?"

She shoved off from the house, and stalked towards us. "My name is Karin," she said, speaking to me, and ignoring Bill. "Eric called me back to his side when he realised how much danger you were in, and I have been watching over the house at night since then."

Something about the way she'd said it clued me in. "Eric's… your maker?" I hazarded.

She nodded. "I am his older child." To my surprise, she simply lifted Bill up by the scruff of his neck. "This woman has made her choice," she said dispassionately. "By the laws of our people, you must accept this, and abide by it. However, my maker wishes to question you, so I think you will be staying here for now." He looked as if he was going to say 'make me' but thought better of it, and subsided. "He will be here shortly. I called him to notify him that there was a vampire on your doorstep who matched the description he gave me. You were in no danger." She smiled at me, and I could see her fangs were partly out. Scariness seemed to run in the family.

"Can I get you a TrueBlood?" I asked politely.

She shook her head. "No, thank you. I don't drink while I'm on duty." I laughed, a little startled. Vampires aren't known for their senses of humour, mostly; clearly that was something else that ran in the family. "I will sit out here with my new friend Bill," she said, a wry look on her face, "and we will enjoy the stars while we await my maker. Do not let this stop you from going about your business."

"Thanks," I said, a little awkwardly; she inclined her head in acknowledgment.

I went inside, and got myself ready for bed, as there didn't seem to be much else I could do. I pulled my robe on over my nightgown, and shoved my feet into slippers, when I heard a car pulling up, and voices outside. I went to the front door and opened it.

"Family reunion?" I asked helplessly, to be greeted by the sight of Pam and Karin pecking each other on the cheek.

Eric laughed, looking up from where he was binding Bill's hands. "They have not seen each other in over a century, and have always got on well." Bill was maintaining a stony silence. "Up you get," he said to the younger vampire, hauling him to his feet. "Pam and Karin will take you back to Shreveport for questioning." He sent me a smouldering look. "I will stay here and guard Miss Stackhouse."

Pam looked as though she'd just been given an early Christmas present, though Karin simply looked amused. Between the three of them, they managed to manoeuvre Bill into Pam's car – she and Eric had clearly driven separately – though with a considerable amount of complaining and irritation from Bill.

When he was finally stashed in the car, Pam and Karin nodded their farewells to us, and got in, but before they could drive off, I was aware of a whining noise, and looked around in astonishment. A big border collie trotted out of the woods and settled at my feet, growling at Eric. Pam surreptitiously exited the car again, her body tensing as if ready to spring if the dog attacked her maker.

He glared at it. "Back off, Merlotte," he said with irritation. "We believe the vampire has done wrong, and he is under my jurisdiction."

I stared from the dog to Eric and back again. "Merlotte?" I squeaked.

"Hmm? Oh. He didn't tell you he was a Shifter?" said Eric, surprised.

"No, he didn't," I said, glaring at the dog. "You'd have won that wager, then," I said, remembering what he'd said about me knowing some Weres and Shifters.

"Of course; I never make a wager unless I'm sure I will win," he grinned. He looked back at the dog that was my boss. "I would ask why you're here, if you could answer."

"One bark for yes, two for no?" I suggested softly, and he chuckled.

"Yes, perhaps. Pam, Karin, I will deal with things from here." Pam nodded, and slid back into the driver's seat.

Once they'd gone, Eric crouched down to eye level with the dog – a long way down, given how tall he is.

"Did you come here intending to harm Sookie?" he demanded. Two barks. "To guard her?" One bark. I smiled a little; thanks, boss. Eric frowned. "I already have guards on her house, and I myself am guarding her tonight." There was a low whine. "Oh, get over it," he snapped impatiently.

"Get over what?"

He waved his hand at the dog. "He is unhappy that I am guarding you."

I shrugged. "He's not keen on me dating vampires. He probably thinks I'm jumping out of the frying pan into the fire, on that score." The dog barked once, and wagged his tale, looking at me hopefully.

"Probably jealous," shrugged Eric; the dog growled at him.

"Well, it's not like he made a move when I was single," I said tartly. I glared at the dog. "Now, listen, Sam Merlotte. I've made my own choice, and I'm happy with it. And though it's real sweet that you wanted to look out for me, as you can see, I've got protection right here." Nobody in their right mind would mess with Eric, after all.

The dog put his tail between his legs and gave me a sorrowful look.

"I'll be fine," I said more gently. "Really."

"No harm will come to her," affirmed Eric. "I will make sure of it."

The dog I couldn't quite think of as Sam gave another pitiful whine, but trotted off back into the woods; I decided I'd have to think of a different name for him. Dean, I thought; his eyes made me remember a man I'd known with that name. I let out a breath, and sat down shakily on the porch. "Well, that was weird," I said.

He chuckled, standing up to his full height. "Until you become used to seeing Weres and Shifters in their animal form, it is very peculiar," he agreed. "Sometimes it is difficult to tell the difference between them and an ordinary animal, but there are signs you can pick up if you know what to look for – greater size and intelligence, for example."

"You recognised him, though," I said thoughtfully.

"Mm. Our paths have crossed in the past. He distrusts me because I am a vampire; I dislike him because he is a Shifter," he said candidly. He came and sat beside me. "Karin said you told Bill," he said softly.

My pulse sped up. "So I did," I said, a little breathlessly.

"You come to me of your own free will?" he asked, turning a little so he faced more towards me.

"Yes," I whispered.

Fingertips under my chin, he tilted my head up, and kissed me softly on the lips. "Then you are mine," he murmured, "and rest assured, I will stop at nothing to ensure your safety."

I'm pretty sure that should have been scary, knowing what a vampire can do, but in a funny sort of way, I did find it reassuring. A guard dog might make me feel better (though there was no guarantee that a dog wouldn't end up the same way as poor little Tina had), but there's something comforting about knowing you've got a thousand-year-old warrior looking out for you, particularly one who was several times stronger and faster than any human stupid enough to try to take him on.

A sudden cool breeze made me shiver, and realise that I was sitting outside in just my nightwear. "Maybe you could do that from inside the house?" I suggested. "It's getting cold out here, and I'm not exactly dressed for the great outdoors." He laughed softly, and scooped me up into his arms, carrying me inside. I yawned, realising how tired as I was, and snuggled willingly into his arms when he sprawled beside me in the bed.

"Sleep, my darling," he murmured. And I did.

When I woke up it was daylight, and I felt immediately bereft with Eric no longer beside me; I found myself wishing that there was some way he could have stayed over. But then again, with this… relationship… being so very new, perhaps it was a little soon for that.

I scoffed at my thoughts; too soon for him to stay in my house during the day, when I'd spent the night in his arms? Still, it did feel a lot more intimate, somehow, than him staying with me to guard me. And though I definitely wanted to take things further with Eric (oh, boy, did I!), I wasn't quite ready for taking that final step yet.

Give it a day or two.

I chastised myself mentally; I wasn't brought up to hop from bed to bed, and it was perilously close to what I was doing. But being with Eric felt so right, somehow, that it was hard not to get swept up in that, in the passion and heat of his kisses, of my own reactions to him. I was in danger of falling for Eric every bit as hard as I'd fallen for Bill – perhaps even harder. He was such a vibrant, larger-than-life character, and though he was definitely dangerous and deadly, at the same time he could be fun-loving and caring – seeing the way he'd handled Tina's body, and the way he'd played with Coby and Lisa, had brought that home to me even more than his interactions with me had done.

I wasn't due to go into work, as it was my day off, but I wasn't hugely surprised when Sam called me. "Sam, before you say it, I'm fine," I said firmly.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Actually, I was calling about Jason. He was… I found him in his truck, passed out drunk and covered in blood, in the parking lot this morning. I was going to try to get him into my place, or home, and cleaned up, but Arlene came in and saw, so I had to call the police – Andy Bellefleur will probably be up to see you soon. The thing is…"

"What?" I asked tersely.

"I heard on the grapevine that the girl he was with last night was murdered. And he had… a tape… of them… you know."

"I can guess," I said dryly, my heart sinking. "Who was the girl? Do you really think he killed her?" Jason didn't seem the type, but how could I be sure?

"Amy Burley, and no, I don't think Jason killed her, any more than you do. Someone's trying to frame him for this – and is being darned clever about it, too."

I sighed. "Thanks for letting me know, Sam. And, you know, you could have told me yourself, about the shifter thing, rather than letting me find out that way."

"I know, I'm sorry. I'd intended for you to think I was a stray dog and take me in so I could stand guard, and then slip away in the morning. But I guess you've got all the protection you need." He was clearly trying very hard not to sound bitter.

"Don't start on that," I advised him. "Eric's made sure I've been guarded all the time Bill's been away."

There was silence for a while as he digested that piece of information. "What was it they were hauling him off for last night? Do they think he's involved in these murders in some way?"

I was surprised, as the murders hadn't come into it, as far as I was aware. "No, it's not about that, it's…" I took a deep breath. "I went to Fangtasia, Eric's bar, a few nights ago, to read some minds for him." It seemed so long ago, now; so many things had happened since. "Bill was already in New Orleans, so Eric picked me up and dropped me home himself, and we got to talking. Turns out that Bill had been feeding me misinformation about Eric, and so on. He couldn't figure out why he'd do that, until he mentioned that Bill was the Queen's Procurer."

"He's working for Sophie-Anne Leclerq?" he said, surprised. "News to me. But what does that have to do with it? I mean, she's Eric's direct boss, too, after all."

"We… think it's possible that it wasn't exactly an accident, me meeting him – him giving me his blood to heal me after the Rattrays beat me up, even me dating him," I said carefully.

"Son of a _bitch_ ," he swore, taking me by surprise – Sam hardly ever cursed. "He thinks Bill's set all this up to procure you for Sophie-Anne?"

"Pretty much the size of it," I said ruefully.

"And Eric's… protecting you? Is this why you agreed to work for him? He called about your contract, about providing a waitress."

"He said he'd do that," I said, grateful that, even with everything that had been going on, he'd remembered to do it. "Yes, he's protecting me, and taking it pretty seriously. He was there when Tina… we were in the kitchen, when we heard… he buried her for me."

"This is personal, isn't it?" he asked softly.

"Huh?" I asked.

"It's not just about protecting someone who's agreed to work for him, is it?" he clarified. "He… cares about you."

"Pam said he does," I admitted.

He sighed. "I guess I just didn't want to believe it," he said morosely.

"Sam…" there was a knock on the door. "Look, someone's here, probably Andy; I have to go."

"Okay. Take care, cher."

I rang off, and went to open the door. As I suspected, it was Andy. I was grateful to Sam for calling me, so that it wasn't such a shock to the system when he told me the reason for his visit.

He wanted to know where Bill was, of course, and I hedged by saying he was out of town, and had been staying at Blood in the Quarter in New Orleans on business. I didn't think I could really say, 'sure, he came back last night, and was carted off by the local vampire deputy sheriff for questioning over the procurement of a human.' It wouldn't look good, either for Bill, or for Eric and Pam, and I didn't want there to be any trouble for them.

Eventually, he left, and I sat at home, trying to take everything in. My boss was a shifter. My brother liked making sex tapes, and was being framed for these murders (I could believe many things of Jason, but not that he'd ever harm Gran, and probably not me, either; and definitely not Tina). My (now ex) boyfriend was being questioned in relation to whether he was involved in procurement of a human. And nobody was any closer to discovering who the murderer was. I still wasn't safe from attack, though Eric was doing his best to protect me.

I wondered vaguely if the person who was guarding the house during the day was a Were or a Shifter, or maybe the day man Eric mentioned.

I went about my daily chores on auto-pilot, not really able to settle to anything but the most mindless cleaning. Sid Matt Lancaster came to see me in the afternoon to tell me Jason had been arrested for first degree murder, and I discussed posting bail for Jason with him. I would find the money somehow, no matter how tight my finances.

The phone rang a little after sunset, and somehow, I knew who it was.

"Sookie, my associates tell me you were visited by the police and a lawyer today. What has happened?" asked Eric, not beating around the bush. He sounded tense, and I guessed he was worried about these murders, and the threat to me, almost as much as I was.

"My brother's been arrested for the murders of those girls. There was another murder last night, and he was with her for at least some of the night. I think someone's trying to set him up." I added, "They wanted to know where Bill was – the police, I mean – so I kind of fudged the issue, said he's been out of town on business, in New Orleans."

"That was sensible," he said distractedly. "The alibi you might have given him would have done him more harm than good, probably."

"Did Pam find anything out from him?" I asked.

He was silent for a long time. "Our suspicions were correct," he said finally, very gently.

I swallowed. "He was sent to procure me."

"Yes," he confirmed.

"How did Sophie-Anne know about me?" I asked, my voice wavering.

"Your cousin, Hadley Delahoussaye, was her… girlfriend." I thought he'd been going to use another word there, and wondered what it was.

"Was?" I asked.

"Now her child," he said. "Sophie-Anne turned her, quite recently. She was willing," he added, as if it really made that much difference to me.

"And Hadley told her about me," I whispered.

"Yes, according to what Bill has said."

"And the Rattrays? The Monroe vampires? The… the blood?" I squeaked.

"All as we suspected." I gave a soft sob. "He claims that he did come to care for you, love you, that he still does," he said, trying to keep any emotion out of his voice.

"That utter _bastard_ ," I hissed.

There was silence for a long while. "You always deserved better than him," he said finally. "Even before I knew of this, I could not understand why someone like you should be with scum like Compton."

I gave a shaky laugh. "Well, thanks for that," I said. "Are you at Fangtasia tonight?"

"I'm afraid so," he said. "But Karin will be guarding the house, as before, and I will try to come to see you tomorrow."

I was disappointed I wouldn't be seeing him, but I knew he had duties to attend to that he must surely have been neglecting the last few nights to spend time with me. I worried, a little uneasily, that he might stop being so attentive now that I'd left Bill for him, but gave myself a severe telling-off for even thinking that; he couldn't keep taking time off work, any more than anyone else could, and it was unfair of me to hold one night against him. He'd called me, after all. And he had said he would try to see me tomorrow, and I might need that, after the bail hearing. I had no idea how these things even worked; it was going to be a tough day, tougher even than today had been, maybe. And everyone would stare, would judge, whether rightly or wrongly, and I would no doubt hear it all in their minds. I went to bed in a morose frame of mind.

I was woken up part-way through the night by a commotion outside, and peered out of the window. Karin was pacing to and fro on the driveway, talking on her cell phone, gesticulating wildly with her free hand. I couldn't make out what she was saying, but it was pretty obvious she was annoyed. I opened the window as she rang off.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Someone managed to sneak through the woods to your house," she said. "I tried to follow him, but he got into a truck that he'd left on the road, and I couldn't catch him, couldn't even see the licence plate." She was furious, her fangs fully down.

I could understand her frustration. "Hey, at least you stopped him from getting in," I said reasonably.

She relaxed, but only fractionally. "This is true. But now it is known that you are guarded, this man may be more cautious, more cunning, next time."

I could see her point, and shivered. On the other hand, Jason was in jail, so it couldn't have been him that was behind the murders – unless this was a random break-in attempt on a lonely farmhouse. The police wouldn't necessarily link the two, after all – there was no evidence to say that the man trying to break into my house was anything other than a burglar, bar the circumstances. I called and reported it, anyway, just to be on the safe side.

One night, I thought caustically as I stomped off back to bed, I might actually get an uninterrupted night's sleep.

I made an effort to dress up to go to Jason's bail hearing, though the heat of the day made me regret it. Posting bail cost a fortune, though the collateral was mainly against Jason's house, truck, and fishing boat. He stopped to speak with me on the court steps, his face looking so much older, his confidence clearly shaken.

"I didn't do it."

"I never thought you did." His thoughts were a mess, but over-riding everything else was the sheer horror and revulsion that anyone could think he'd murder his own grandmother whilst lying in wait for his baby sister. Jason had his faults, but he'd loved Gran, and he loved me, and it hurt him to know other people thought he was capable of harming either of us. "We'll get through this," I said, trying not to cry.

"We'll get through this," he repeated, as if saying it could somehow make it so.

I sat in the bar for a long time, trying to read the minds of all of the men who were in there, but turned up nothing that would help. In the end, Sam made me leave, saying it was creeping everyone out that I was sitting there. It was close to sunset, and I went home via the Grabbit Kwik to get some more bottles of TrueBlood in case Eric did manage to come by, and some milk for my morning cereal. I winced at the lurid thoughts in the cashier's mind, and hurried on out of there as fast as I could.

It was getting dark when I got home. I put the groceries away and got changed, trying to think of something to do for the evening – something other than sit around and mope. I needed to change my library books, and I couldn't settle to read, anyway, and there was nothing on TV. I considered watching one of the movies I had taped, but none of them sat right with me – _Braveheart_ (a perennial favourite – how can you not love Mel Gibson in a kilt?) was just too bloody, and _Gone With The Wind_ would remind me too much of Bill and his perfidy, since he'd lived through that era. I washed my face to get rid of the makeup, which had got all sweaty and sticky, when something on the edge of my consciousness made prickles run down my spine.

A scream of pain and rage. I wiped a towel hastily over my face, and ran to the front door. "Karin?" I called out.

I could hear struggling. "Call Eric!" she yelled back. "Silvered."

I slammed the door shut, and ran to the phone, and swore. It was dead. Someone had cut the phone. "Phone's dead," I shrieked into the night.

"Hang… on," she called back faintly, her voice sounding weaker.

I tried to decide on the best course of action – to stay in the house, which offered some protection, or to take my chances hiding in the woods. I knew them pretty well – but then again, it was possible that whoever was out there knew them, too. But if I stayed in the house, and whoever it was got in, I was trapped.

While I tried to figure out which was the lesser of two evils, I went around the house turning out the lamps, and making sure all the windows and doors were securely shut. It made the house stuffy and hot, as the night was warm, but that couldn't be helped.

I could cut across the cemetery to Bill's and use his phone. But since I'd left him, I wasn't sure how pleased he'd be to see me (assuming Pam and Eric had released him), or whether he'd help, and I wasn't sure I trusted him not to try to whisk me off to New Orleans to work for the Queen. I could try to get to my car, and drive to Merlotte's, where I could be sure Sam would let me use _his_ phone, and would make sure I was safe. Or I could high-tail it straight to Fangtasia…

…Where Eric probably wouldn't be, because the club wouldn't be open yet, and he'd said he'd try to pop round. I gave a sigh of relief; Eric was probably already on his way here. I really hoped so.

I thought more rationally, after that. I normally kept the upstairs of the house shut off, to save on the heating – I didn't use the rooms, but went up to clean them regularly, just in case I ever needed them in a hurry. I crept up the stairs and hid myself away up there, shaking with fear. I seemed to be cowering there for hours.

I bit back a scream when I heard a thud on the window, and risked peeping up at it. My eyes widened as I saw Eric hovering outside the window, motioning to me to let him in.

I hurried over thankfully, opening it as quietly as I could. He slid inside, feet first, landing silently on the floorboards as I fastened it shut again. "You are unhurt?" he murmured, his arms going around me.

The pounding of my heart eased up a little, and I nodded, relaxing into his embrace. "I tried to call you, the phone's cut off. Karin said she was silvered?"

He nodded. "She managed to access her cell phone and text me. Pam is searching the woods for her."

I was trembling all over, as the night's events started catching up with me. Eric held me a little more tightly, rubbing my back reassuringly. "I'm glad you're here," I whispered.

He kissed the top of my head. "You will be safe," he said soothingly. "I will keep you safe."

I knew it, believed him whole-heartedly, but it didn't stop me from gasping in fear as I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps creeping up the stairs.


	5. Trust

**A/N: This is the end of the road for this story, folks. There may, in time, be sequels - but this is the final chapter for this one. Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and favouriting. I hope you all enjoyed the ride as much as I did!**

* * *

 **Trust**

I glanced up at Eric; remarkably, he was smiling. It wasn't the genial smile I'd become used to seeing when he was with me, but the hard, calculating smile of a predator whose prey is about to walk straight into a trap. His fangs were fully down, and his eyes were glittering. It brought home to me just how dangerous Eric could be.

"Don't kill him," I whispered. "We need a confession to get Jason off the hook." I had a funny sort of feeling that no other reason would hold any weight with him at all, but he would grasp the necessity of that, I hoped.

He nodded to show he understood, then gestured to me to go towards the window. Moonlight was spilling in; I'd be silhouetted against it. I gave him a doubtful look. "Trust me," he murmured in my ear.

I edged over to the window, and he eased back into the shadows. I realised, suddenly, what his game was: the intruder would see me, come towards me to attack thinking he had me trapped, and wouldn't be able to see Eric. He'd be able to take the intruder by surprise before he could even lay a finger on me.

As plans went, it was simple, but effective.

It seemed like an eternity that I waited there by the window, my shallow breathing seeming loud in the quiet house, as I heard the intruder searching the rest of the upstairs. Even though I knew Eric was there with me in the shadows – could even see him glowing faintly, reassuringly, like my very own vampire nightlight – I couldn't help but gulp with fear as the door opened.

"Who's there?" I asked tensely, reaching out with my mind, and finding a dark tangle of red-black hate. There was no reply, but I could hear him coming closer. Fear gripped me. "Why are you doing this?" I whispered, and saw images in his mind, Dawn, Maudette, Amy, and a girl I didn't know. My Grandmother, angry, struggling, fighting for her life. I felt sick, near to fainting.

Before he could touch me, though, there was a glowing blur moving across the room towards him, and Eric knocked him to the ground as easily as if he'd been a fly. I shivered a little at the reminder of Eric's power, but slumped gratefully back against the wall under the window, letting myself slide down it. The moonlight spilled onto the two figures on the floor, and I could just about make out Eric binding the man's hands with a cord that I guess had been intended as a ligature. He pulled the unconscious man up into a sitting position, and I gasped.

It was Rene. Rene Lenier, who I'd thought of as a friend.

"The man with the children," Eric said with mild interest as he regarded him. Of course, I thought, he'd met Rene a few nights back, when I'd been babysitting Lisa and Coby. I wondered, with a sinking feeling, what Arlene would make of all of this.

I rubbed my clammy palms on my shorts. "What do we do now?"

He stood up and flicked the light on. "We wait until he comes round, I explain to him the error of his ways, and we call the police," he said calmly. "In the meantime, I must call Pam to see if she has found Karin yet."

I listened to the rise and fall of his voice (he wasn't speaking in English, so I didn't understand the conversation), and looked up at him when he rang off. He didn't look especially happy, but not as grim as I'd feared. "Are they okay?" I asked tentatively.

"They will be," he answered. "Karin was captured in a silver net, then injected with a silver compound, but this man was unaware how old and how strong she is – she managed to fight her way out of the net and text me before she passed out from the silver poisoning. Pam has given her some of her own blood, and is bringing her here so that I can also give her some of mine. Only the blood of one of your own line, whether sibling, maker, or child, can negate the effects of silver poisoning," he explained. "She is awake and walking now, but is still weak." He picked Rene up, and slung him casually over his shoulder, taking him downstairs, with me trotting behind.

"She'll be all right though, won't she?" I asked anxiously. "I mean, there won't be any long-term effects?" I hated to think that anyone might have to suffer for my sake, least of all someone as dear to Eric as one of his own vampire children.

He shook his head, dumping Rene unceremoniously on the kitchen floor as if he was a bag of groceries. It occurred to me in passing that, to Eric at least, that was probably pretty much what he was. Luckily, I'm not squeamish. "No, once she has had some of my blood to top off what Pam has already given her, she will make a full recovery. There is no need to fear for her."

A hammering on the door made me jump, but Eric just smiled, going to the door. "May we come in, Sookie?" I heard a familiar voice call out.

"Pam, Karin, please come in," I called back. Eric was carrying Karin when he re-entered the kitchen; she looked grey, and her eyes were dimmer than normal. Pam trotted in behind them, after a few moments, looking worried.

"TrueBlood?" I asked her, and she nodded her assent. I popped a bottle in the microwave for her.

"Pam, stop worrying," murmured Karin. "I'm already feeling better."

"Nonetheless, you will take my blood," said Eric briskly, sitting at the kitchen table with her on his lap.

"I'm fine," she growled.

He raised an eyebrow. "Must I use my maker's command on you, Karin?" he asked, holding his wrist up to her mouth. "Drink." She gave him a look, but her fangs ran out, and she bit into his wrist. He grinned at me. "First aid for vamps," he said, his eyes twinkling.

I couldn't help but laugh, and the tension in the room seemed to ease. "I guess you all would like TrueBloods?" I asked, as I poured Pam's into a glass for her.

Eric nodded. "Probably wise."

I heated him a bottle, by which time Karin had pulled back from Eric's wrist, her fangs retracting. "Thank you," she murmured, laying her head briefly on his shoulder. She looked a lot better, but still accepted a bottle of TrueBlood graciously. She seemed steady on her feet as she slid off his lap, and took another chair, next to Pam. "You caught him, then," she said, nodding to the still-prone Rene on the floor.

"Yes," grinned Eric fangily. "I will call the authorities once I have had a short… chat… with him."

"You weren't hurt?" she asked me.

I shook my head. "Scared half to death, but no worse than that. Might have been different if you hadn't managed to text Eric, though."

"Why was he doing it, do you know?" asked Pam curiously.

I shook my head again. "Until he wakes up, I guess we won't know. I knew he didn't like vampires, because his sister Cindy was seeing a vampire for a while, and he worried for her, but I don't see how that would make him want to kill women who'd been with vampires."

She shrugged. "Humans do all sorts of fucked-up shit."

I guess she had a point.

I made myself a hot chocolate, and we sat around the table with our respective drinks, until Rene began to move, groaning. He probably wondered what had hit him (a couple of hundred pounds of irate Viking vampire, as I could have told him), and tried to sit up. It was only then that he realised that his hands were bound behind his back (pretty tightly), and that he wasn't alone. "What the fuck happened?" he muttered.

"You made the mistake of trying to hurt someone I care about, and _actually_ hurting another," said Eric in a silky-smooth voice. It was a calm, quiet statement – and it was scary as hell.

Rene seemed to agree with me on that point. He started sweating, his eyes closed as if he were praying. _Somehow, I don't think that'll do you much good,_ I found myself thinking. I couldn't find any compassion inside me for him, the man who'd murdered those poor girls, my Gran, my little Tina; the man who'd intended to make me his next victim.

Eric sat Rene up so that he was leaning against the cupboards, and moved his chair to face him. He lounged back in the chair, for a long time simply regarding the petrified human in front of him. "Can you hear his thoughts?" he asked casually. I nodded. He took a knife from his pocket, and idly flicked it open and shut again. Eric was plenty dangerous without a pocket knife, so I knew he was using it as an unspoken threat. His eyes never left Rene. "Perhaps he doesn't need his tongue, then," he said calmly.

Rene gave a shriek, his eyes widening in terror. "Don't let him hurt me!" he begged me.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You murdered my Gran, and my cat, and you tried to murder me," I said to him. "Why should I do anything for you?" I didn't _think_ Eric had any intention of carrying out his threat, and had to trust my instincts on that score. Besides which, how would I have stopped three vampires? I couldn't even out-match Pam, as the youngest, let alone the entire Northman line in one go.

"You… they… you're human, I'm human…"

Pam sneered. "You, a human? Simply a blood bag. A blood bag who harmed my sister, and tried to harm my friend."

"Pam." Eric's voice held a warning tone. "Be silent." She subsided immediately.

"Eric," said Karin pleasantly, "even if Sookie can read his mind to give us the answers we require, he will need his tongue to speak with the police."

Eric looked thoughtful. "You may be right." Rene seemed to relax slightly. "Unless, of course, he writes his confession," he mused aloud.

An 'Eep!' of alarm escaped Rene. He shook his head frantically.

"It would make a terrible mess of our hostess's kitchen," said Karin reasonably, and I began to tumble to what they were doing. Good cop, bad cop. "She has already had to clean this kitchen up once as a result of this man's actions."

Eric looked over at me. "This is true." Rene gave a sigh of relief. "I will not cut out his tongue." His eyes flicked back to Rene. "If we allow him to keep his tongue, he will not need to write his confession, is this correct? I could, perhaps, break his fingers instead."

Karin cleared her throat delicately. "I believe they have to sign documents," she said apologetically.

Eric frowned moodily. "He can sign one-handed. Human, are you right or left handed?"

Rene shook his head, sending me a pleading look.

"He does not seem inclined to talk, Master," said Pam in a bored voice, and I realised she was in on the act as well (the bratty, rookie cop?) – she would never normally call Eric 'master' except as part of the Great Big Vampire Act. Frightening the bejeesus out of your enemy seemed to be the favourite family game of the Northman clan. I guessed 'charades' got boring after a couple of centuries. "Why do you not just drain the fucker?"

He waved a lazy hand. "He framed Sookie's brother, Jason, for his crimes. His confession is required to ensure the charges against Mr Stackhouse are dropped."

Pam huffed, and sat moodily back in her chair. "This is turning out to be no fun at all," she grumbled. "Can I not simply break his legs?"

"Pamela, desist," said Eric sternly. I raised my hand nervously, as if I were still at school. Eric turned his eyes to me. "Yes, my darling?" he purred.

"I think he's ready to talk now," I said, astonished at how easily I slid into my part in this sinister charade of theirs.

"Really? How delightful," he drawled, smiling. "Let's hear what he has to say, then, shall we?" He leant forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his hands clasped, and stared intently at Rene. "Begin," he commanded. "Why did you murder these women?"

Eric's face remained impassive as he listened to Rene talk, telling of his sister Cindy and her vampire lover, how he'd tried to get her to leave him, how she'd refused to give him up. He told how he'd murdered her, strangled her with the strings of her work apron as she'd got ready to go out to her job. A soft sound of horror escaped me as I saw something in his mind that made me want to hurl; Eric looked up at me sharply. "You murdered her, then had sex with her when she was dead?" I exclaimed, revolted beyond measure. "Your own sister, too!"

Pam's nose wrinkled, and Karin gave a soft _moue_ of distaste. Even Eric looked vaguely disgusted, though he tried hard to hide it. "And what of the other women?" he asked, his voice cold and sharp, but level.

Rene sat silently. "He did it to excuse what he'd done to his sister," I said, my voice quavering, upset. "In his mind, they all deserved it, for going with vampires. They'd sunk so low that they deserved to be murdered, would have sex with anyone, if they'd go with a vampire."

Eric's look was positively lethal. "Here's what you will do," he said quietly to Rene, looking him in the eyes. I could feel the force of his glamour, and shivered slightly. "I will call the police, and you will tell them everything: about how you murdered your sister and these other women, all the things you did to them. You will leave nothing out. You will tell them how you framed Jason Stackhouse for the murder of Amy Burley. You will tell them how you killed Mrs Stackhouse whilst lying in wait for Sookie. You will tell them how you murdered Sookie's cat, Tina. You will tell them how you attempted to break into Sookie's house last night, but were disturbed. You will tell them how you broke in this evening, and happened upon Sookie and attacked her, finding her alone in the house. You will tell them how I came upon you, having called round to see Sookie, and knocked you unconscious. You will _not_ tell them that we spoke about these matters, or that I threatened you, or that Pam and Karin were here." The two women were getting up to leave; Karin rinsed the bottles out, and put them in the recycling tub. "When you came round, I was already calling the police."

Rene nodded dumbly, his eyes slightly glazed. I dipped into his head briefly, and he honestly believed that to be what had happened. I stood, and went to see Pam and Karin out. When I returned, Eric was hanging up the phone, and Rene was staring sullenly at him, now released from the glamour. "You've called the police?" I checked.

He nodded. "They will be here shortly."

"I guess now we just sit and wait, then," I said. I went to the old coat closet by the front door, reaching my hand in to fetch out the rifle my Gran had always kept in there, the one that had belonged to my dad. She'd mainly used it for shooting snakes, and though I hated the thought of actually using it, I thought it might be a deterrent, just in case Rene decided to try anything really stupid while we waited for the police to arrive.

It wasn't there.

I sighed, and headed back into the kitchen. "I don't suppose you know anything about my rifle being missing, do you?" I asked Rene pleasantly. I saw in his mind that he'd taken it the night he'd murdered Gran, but not what he did with it; I wondered if, through his crazed hate, he could even remember.

Eric smiled faintly. "You have no need of a rifle with me here," he said, amused.

"You never know when you might need a rifle, you're not always here, and besides, that's not the point," I said, glaring at Rene as I replied to Eric. "That rifle was one of the few things I had that belonged to my dad," I added, my voice getting a little choked.

He stood, and came towards me, wrapping his arms around me. "Perhaps the police will find it," he said quietly.

I took a deep breath, and nodded, leaning against him briefly for support. I felt pretty shaky after the evening's events, but was glad that the murderer had been caught and that the police were on their way. Maybe life could go back to normal, now – or at least, as normal as you can get under the circumstances, I thought ruefully.

Andy Bellefleur arrived a few minutes later, and we gave our statements to him, sitting in the living room, once he'd handed Rene over to Kevin and Kenya to be taken in for questioning. After speaking to me, he turned to Eric.

"How did you come to be here, Mr Northman?" he asked neutrally.

"Sookie is going to be working for me," he replied smoothly. "I came round this evening to bring her copy of the contract, and her cell phone, as I had finished charging it and programming the relevant numbers that she will need into it. When I arrived here, I saw the front door was open, and was concerned, knowing that her grandmother had been murdered recently. I came in to see what had happened."

"You didn't think to call the police at that point?" he asked.

"I heard a scream, and didn't think," he lied, sounding apologetic.

"And you had an invitation into the house already?" he asked curiously.

"Yes," said Eric. "I came round a few nights ago with Sookie's contract for her to sign. In fact, I met this man that very evening, when he picked up the children Sookie was looking after."

"Can I see the phone? And the contract?" he asked suspiciously.

Eric waved his hand towards the coffee table; sure enough there was a box with a new phone in it. It certainly hadn't been there before I'd let Eric in through the upstairs window. I schooled my features to hide my surprise, guessing that Pam must have dropped them off at Eric's request when she came by earlier. My copy of the contract was sitting on top of the little box – Eric had 'forgotten' to give it to me the night I'd gone to Fangtasia to hear _Dead Beat_ , I strongly suspected so that he would have an excuse to come by to see me again. Then again, I'd 'forgotten' to take the t-shirt he'd lent me back to him, too, for the same reason. "They are both there," he said.

Andy flicked his eyes over the contract. "Human Liaison Assistant?" he queried.

"Sounds more official than 'Telepath', apparently," I said ruefully.

He gave a tense, uncomfortable smile; Andy knew about my little quirk, and found it hard to stomach. "All above board with the IRS?" he asked.

I nodded. "I've notified them." Boy, was I glad I'd thought to do that already.

He handed the contract back to me. "All seems in order. Part time work, still working at Merlotte's?" he asked.

"I will not necessarily have much work for Sookie to do, so I proposed treating her as an on-call consultant," Eric explained. "Understandably, she did not want to give up her job at Merlotte's when I could not guarantee to match her salary. This seemed the best compromise."

"Fair enough. I don't have any further questions for either of you, for the moment. Mr Northman, is there some way I can contact you if necessary?"

Eric inclined his golden head, and took a Fangtasia business card from his wallet, writing his cell phone number on the back, as he had done with mine. "I can generally be reached at the bar, but otherwise on my cell phone," he said cordially.

I stood to let Andy out. "You, ah… you'll be okay on your own with him?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh, sure," I smiled. Right now, being on my own with Eric was top of my to-do list. "Thanks for coming by so quickly, Andy."

"Just glad to get this whole thing wrapped up," he said. "Well, good night, Sookie. I guess we'll see what Rene has to say for himself. I'll be in touch to let you know how it goes."

I nodded my thanks, and shut the front door behind him, wondering how Rene had managed to open it. "You need a better lock," murmured Eric, coming up behind me. "That one's too easy to pick." He wrapped his arms around my waist, and held me tightly, nuzzling my neck.

"I probably do," I agreed.

"Are you angry?" he asked softly.

"Angry?"

"That I threatened Rene, and glamoured him," he clarified.

I thought about that. "I didn't think you'd actually hurt him," I said quietly.

"Had he hurt you, I would probably have done all I threatened, and more," he said honestly. "I will not hide who, or what, I am from you." He eased me round so that I faced him. "Is this a problem?" he asked.

I looked up at him, and considered. His eyes were soft and gentle as they regarded me, waiting for me to speak, giving me time to think. I swallowed hard, coming to a decision, and shook my head. "No," I whispered. "Not a problem."

Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his mouth to mine. There was no hesitation in my response; I slid my hands up onto his big, powerful shoulders, and kissed him right back, for all I was worth.

"Worth waiting for," he murmured when I pulled back for air, echoing my own thoughts on the matter.

"Mm," I agreed, snuggling closer to him in contentment.

"Are you tired?" he asked, a teasing note lilting in his voice.

My whole body seemed to react. "Not especially," I said breathlessly.

He nipped lightly at my ear. "You will be," he promised, tugging a little at my earlobe with his teeth.

I shivered pleasantly. "Take me to bed?" I whispered.

"Thought you'd never ask," he replied, swinging me up into his arms, and carrying me through to my room.

I ended up very, very tired, and very, very satisfied.

"You know the room upstairs, the one that Rene found us in?" I asked in comfortable drowsiness, lying in Eric's arms a lot later.

"What about it?" he murmured, playing idly with my hair. It seemed to fascinate him that it was almost exactly the same shade as his own.

"How easy would it be to make it light-tight?" I asked.

"Dormitory for visiting vampires?" he teased.

I smiled, dropping a kiss on his bare chest. "I just thought… it would be nice for you to have somewhere you could stay, so you didn't have to leave early to avoid the dawn," I explained, tilting my head to look at him. He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, so it would be nice for me, too, if you could stay longer," I conceded.

He chuckled. "It would be easy enough, but probably expensive."

"Hmph." I didn't have vast riches, and if it was expensive, that put paid to that idea.

"I can make enquiries. The Herveaux family owes me," he said thoughtfully. "I will ask Alcide to give me an estimate. We may be able to come to an arrangement." I looked at him curiously. "Alcide's father has a gambling addiction," he explained. "I'm forever paying off his debts. This might even things up a little – he might be all too happy to do it for a lower price."

"You'll let me know?" I said.

"Of course."

A companionable silence fell for a while. "Did you really bring a phone round?"

There was a soft sound of amusement. "I have many talents, my darling, but creating things magically is not one of them."

"I know that, but…"

"It was in my car," he said. "Pam brought it in and left it in the living room when she brought Karin; it was one of the things we spoke about on the phone once your friend was dealt with."

So I was right on that score, I thought. "I meant, why did you think I'd need a phone?"

"In case someone cuts your landline, maybe?" he said smugly. I sighed. "In case I need to contact you urgently for whatever reason – a hastily arranged or cancelled meeting, for example," he said, more seriously. "In addition to which, I had an additional handset on the Area plan; you may as well make use of it. And it would ease my mind to know that you have recourse to it, in case you ever find yourself in danger again."

"You're very… protective," I commented. Unlike Bill, I thought to myself, who was simply possessive.

"You are mine," he said soberly. "And what I have, I keep, and keep safely."

Strangely, it didn't annoy me in the way Bill's possessiveness did; rather, it made me feel safe and secure. I nestled into the arms of my vampire lover, and relaxed completely. "It's all over," I marvelled, my eyes closed. "The murders are solved, Jason will be let off the hook, Bill's plans to whisk me off to New Orleans have been scotched, and your embezzler's been dealt with. Maybe everything can go back to normal, now."

Eric chuckled. "It's been quite a roller-coaster, these last few weeks, hasn't it? But things have come off well for both of us… a new job and a new relationship for you; a new staff member and a new relationship for me."

"Definitely good things," I agreed. "I wouldn't have thought any of those things would have happened, if you'd asked me a week or so ago."

"You were scared of me," he said, and I could tell he was smiling. "I think you have conquered that now?"

I laughed softly. "It would certainly seem so," I replied. "This Little Red Riding Hood knows you're the Woodsman, not the Wolf."

I could feel his chest move as he laughed. "Ironic," he chuckled.

"What is?"

"Alcide Herveaux, who I mentioned earlier, as possibly giving us an estimate?"

"What about him?"

"He's a Werewolf," he said, and I laughed.

Maybe 'normal' could wait for another day.

 _Finis_


End file.
